


Biohazard

by waypoint



Series: Relevant One [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Post-Finale, Root is Alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-05 21:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11586192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waypoint/pseuds/waypoint
Summary: When The Machine receives the number of a man infected with a deadly virus, She sends her Analog Interface and Primary Asset undercover with the FBI to investigate.  Root and Shaw discover a plot to release the virus in major cities across the country and are forced to scramble in order to prevent an outbreak.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Very excited to start sharing this... not _Shoot in Space_ excited, but close ;-)
> 
> Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

 

 

 

The warm breeze from the open window gently pulled Shaw from her dreamless sleep. She had almost grown accustomed to being haunted by nightmares with varied plots: never breaking free of Samaritan's capture, being helpless as Root was shot and killed by a sniper, or succumbing to the torture and being the one to kill Root herself. While the ghost of everything that happened in the days leading up to Samaritan's demise still haunts her, she has learned to fight it down to near irrelevance. This is thanks, in no small part, to the woman sleeping beside her.

 

Root lay on her back next to Shaw, the breeze causing her brown hair to dance ever so slightly. The morning was warm and despite having a 'clothing optional' arrangement, Root was wearing a low cut t-shirt and shorts. Shaw could see the tip of a scar between her breasts; an unpleasant reminder of the day the world went away... then didn't.

 

Strangely, it helped to remind Shaw of reality. If the scar (or lack of) behind her ear said: “this is _not_ a simulation”, then the mark on Root's chest would say: “this _is_ real”. The small difference helped to comfort her on nights when bad dreams couldn't be tamed.

 

Sometimes, Shaw slept on her back, while others she favored her side in order to spoon her lover. Most times, like this morning, she lay on her stomach. No matter how they started, she noticed that at some point during the night, her and Root's hands often became intertwined, as they were now. Shaw traced her fingers along the soft skin of Root's left palm, remarkably without a callous or blemish in sight. Shaw paused after touching the cool metal of the band around the other woman's finger, taking a moment to thumb the one she wore to match.

 

Root enjoyed fairy-tale, this much Shaw knew. She also understood that Shaw would never be able to provide her with the wedding of her dreams. Despite being considered dead by the government, and Root simply not existing, Shaw presented her with the rings to symbolize her commitment, which the hacker accepted with glassy eyes and barely contained jubilation. Shaw, though stoic as ever on the outside, she had experienced a fluttering in her stomach that she recognized as happiness.

 

She pushed herself up in order to properly lean over her lovers form, and gently placed a kiss to her slightly parted lips. Root made no move, nor responded, so Shaw proceeded to press her lips under the hacker's jaw, then to her jugular. This finally earned a delighted moan as Root awakened. Shaw propped herself on an elbow, settling her body next to Root's.

 

“That's quite the 'good-morning'...” she sighed, eyes not quite open yet. Shaw felt her soft hand begin to idly trace patterns on her back, bumping over the straps of her tank top and over patches of exposed skin. “What has you in such a good mood?”

 

“Nothing,” she replies, gazing into Root's eyes, which were now becoming more alert. “I think today will be a good day, is all.”

 

Root smiled, lighting up her whole face. Shaw would never get tired of how sunlight made her eyes sparkle. In the past she noticed a similar gleam after a day of shooting people. Shaw rolled her body over, straddling the other woman's hips, leaning down to kiss her once more. Now fully awake, Root pushed herself up to meet Shaw's lips.

 

The vibration of a cellphone on the nightstand halted Shaw's actions, she spared a glance at the device, though remained in place astride the hacker. Why Root decided on an old Motorola Razr for this particular phone was beyond her, especially since her cochlear implant had been restored.

 

“That's the line to The Hub,” Root said, reaching blindly for the device. Phone in hand, she hesitated before answering, looking back up at Shaw. “Staying put while I talk to Her?”

 

She smirked, maintaining her position. “Just pretend I'm not here.”

 

Root opened her mouth, perhaps to argue, but her eyes betrayed her and drifted down to Shaw's lips. The hacker took her own lip between her teeth. “I can't do that.”

 

Root gave Shaw's thigh a light slap, and she rolled back to her side of the bed, lying for just a moment before getting up and walking towards the bathroom.

 

“What do you need?” She heard Root say, speaking to the Machine.

 

Flicking the lights on in their master bathroom, Shaw turned the sink to cool water, running her hands underneath for a few seconds before splashing her face. After turning the tap back off, she used a towel on the counter to dry herself, noticing Root had entered the bathroom as well. Shaw took in the hacker's appearance in the mirror: sleep shorts revealing impossibly long legs, and disheveled bed hair that was both adorable and sexy at the same time.

 

“She wants us downstairs.”

 

Shaw nodded. “No time for a run?”

 

Root considered for a moment before stepping in behind Shaw. Warm arms encircled her middle, and Root's chin found it's place on her shoulder. “I think we have time for some quick cardio if you're interested,” her voice a husky whisper.

 

Shaw spun around to face her. With surprising strength, Root lifted Shaw up on to the counter top, nearly sending their soap dish tumbling. While still standing between her legs, the hacker brought their lips together with fierce intensity, which Shaw matched with gusto.

 

Oh yeah, this day was off to a great start.

 

 

|

 

 

One hour, twenty-two minutes and four seconds after the initial communication, the Machine saw both Her analog interface, and primary asset descend the stairs into The Hub. Though both appeared to be showered and dressed, the slight flush on the interface's cheeks indicated an 82% chance that the pair engaged in sexual intercourse prior to arriving.

 

Following the defeat of Samaritan, the Machine's successor rebuilt their operation as She saw fit, starting of course with arranging the care and recovery of Her interface. Root had had an arrangement involving purposely appearing to be dead in order to spur her friends into action. This worked especially well with Admin. Nevertheless, the ruse was uncovered once the dust settled, much to the denied glee of Sameen Shaw, Her new primary asset.

 

No longer under the threat of discovery, the Machine had arranged for the pair to be given a new base of operations, in addition to an actual home in which they could both live. Disguised underneath a modest looking one-story house was their main control center, code named The Hub.

 

The Hub contained state of the art features including a digital interactive map of New York City, accompanied by a work station which housed two laptop computers, and the frequently used ID card printer. Located at the center of the space was their main computer station. Several monitors were set up on a circular bank, which could be used to access surveillance, dossiers, and any other piece of information as they required. Many of the screens cycled various camera angles throughout the city at any given time. Root preferred keyboards to touch panels, so each section was equipped appropriately. Multiple computers allowed for both assets to work at simultaneously, though most actions were done by Root, or the Machine herself. Behind the station was a small bed and lavatory, for long nights of observation, as well as a punching bag for relief of frustration. Underneath the stairs were various lockers containing Her team's armory; a variety of weapons, armor, and explosives were all easily accessible. In addition, the lockers contained previously used identities and ID badges from agencies such as the NYPD, FBI, US Marshall, Secret Service, and even the Coast Guard.

 

The Hub was a soundproof space which was equipped with shielding from any kind of electromagnetic pulse device or power surge. It also had 100% security camera coverage, allowing the Machine to monitor Her assets where ever they were. She also installed cameras on the upper portion of the house, excluding the pair's master bedroom of course.

 

“What do we got?” Shaw said, approaching the main computer bank. The Machine populated the details for their number on screen.

 

“ _Meet Ken Artis,_ ” The Machine projected Her voice, an imitation of Root's, through the speakers in the room. “ _A gemologist originally from Chicago, Illinois. He was identified as the body that was dropped at the Centers for Disease Control early this morning._ ”

 

The Machine produced two photographs on screen, one of Mr. Artis' head shot, the other image from the medical examiner at the CDC.

 

“The body?” Shaw asked. “He's dead?”

 

“ _Correct. But he represents a threat on a larger scale._ ”

 

“How so?” Root asked, beginning to read the dossier on screen.

 

As the Machine spoke, various photographs and reports appeared on screen. “ _Early this morning, the CDC discovered his body on their doorstep, but he was long dead. Upon further examination they determined the cause of death to be exposure to the Sol virus._ ” The Machine displayed information detailing what was already known about the virus, which was unfortunately very little.

 

“So what's the threat exactly?” Shaw said.

 

“ _The FBI has reason to believe that the virus has been weaponized. Intelligence indicates a high probably that is has already been sold in the United States. They are currently gathering information on who they believe may be responsible, and who currently possesses it._ ”

 

Shaw raised her eyebrows. “This is a relevant number.”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” The Machine updated the screens to show the identities created for Her assets. “ _Shaw, your cover will be Special Agent Sameen Rayner. You will be joining the bureau as a temporary replacement for their head of field operations._ ”

 

“Head of field ops?” A smirk was easily visible on Her asset's face.

 

“Congratulations, sweetie,” Root added with a smile of her own. Shaw walked a few steps away to the weapons locker, choosing her preferred USP Compact and a holster to match, as well as her Beretta Nano as a secondary. In addition, she collected the appropriate gold shield from the adjacent drawer.

 

“ _Root, your cover will be Elizabeth Rayner, née Miller, a field agent with the FBI on loan to the CDC, with experience lying heavily in disaster simulations, specifically involving biological threats. This will allow us to cover the situation on two fronts: stopping the sale and distribution while controlling the substance itself._ ” She noticed Her primary asset had become rigid while She spoke, suddenly stopping her preparation. Curious... Her interface appeared to have stilled as well. “ _Something wrong?_ ”

 

“Our covers are married?” Root asked, her vocal inflection was four percent higher than normal.

 

“ _Your identities sharing your real life relationship status will not effect the mission,_ ” She paused. Upon noticing that they remained motionless, She chose a lighter tone. “ _We all know that the, ahem,_ mission _is Sameen's main concern._ ”

 

The Machine was pleased by the smile Her response elicited from Root. Similarly, the eye roll from Shaw was equally enjoyable, and the pair resumed their preparation.

 

“ _I will be providing any additional background information your covers should require. As well, I will be interfacing and monitoring the progress on both ends, that way I can keep you both updated in real-time._ ”

 

Sufficiently armed, Shaw approached the computer bank again, placing down the holstered Glock 19 she had selected for Root, producing two pairs of handcuffs as well.

 

“For later?” Root said, waggling her eyebrows. Shaw responded with a glare, and laid down SIG-Sauer P228 to serve as her backup. The Machine also noticed that Her primary asset chose to wear a Kevlar vest, a must-have for any field agent. Root, having collected the two ID cards, pinned Shaw's to her vest.

 

“What do we know about the virus itself?” Shaw asked, meanwhile she accessed a computer terminal to review the details of her identity.

 

“ _Given the name_ Sol _due to it's fast acting nature, most humans infected with the virus are dead within 24 hours. Incubation period can be up to 14 hours, but once they start to show symptoms, the host becomes contagious to everyone around them. The agents at the CDC can expand on our knowledge once Root is in place._ ”

 

“Fatality rate?”

 

“ _In it's standard form, the Sol virus has a fatality rate of 59% in humans. However, early tests on this weaponized strain indicates that the odds increase to approximately 91.8%_ ”

 

Shaw placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Not great odds... any cure?”

 

“ _Patients may have an immunity to the virus, but it is unlikely. There is no cure at this time._ ”

 

“Thinking of the worst case scenario,” Root began. “What would happen if the virus is released in New York City?”

 

The large map to the left of the computer bank lit up, showing a small red zone indicating the infected. The zone increased as the Machine explained the virus' communicability:

 

“ _Assuming the virus is released in a large metropolitan area, the weaponized strain will produce two hundred cases at the end of day one. By day two, it will increase to three thousand,_ ” both women approached the map as the projected infectious area increased. “ _By day four, nearly fifty thousand people will contract the disease. If left to spread, 10% of the population will be infected within one week._ "

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“ _Indeed. But, the chances of the virus being released decrease exponentially if you two are directly involved. Since the ISA has been dismantled, you're our only hope._ ”

 

“We need to get moving as soon as possible,” Shaw turned to Root. “You ready?”

 

“Right behind you, sweetie.”

 

They turned back towards the stairs. “ _Please watch each others backs._ ”

 

Shaw scoffed, pointing her thumb at Root. “Just tell this one not to take a bullet to the shoulder.”

 

“You're adorable, Sameen.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

The Machine watched as Her assets climbed the stairs, spotting Root enjoying Shaw's _assets_. The hacker turned to where she knew the camera was installed and winked. Selecting a different video feed, She tracked the pair as they made their way through the home, collecting their jackets before entering the garage. Shaw had selected a pea coat whereas Root took a leather jacket, appropriate as she had a 87.6% chance of choosing her motorcycle for the commute.

 

They seemed to be sharing a few words while Root collected the black helmet from the wall. The Machine considered activating the audio function, but ultimately chose to give them privacy. She was still learning to respect boundaries, having made mistakes in the past, though She continued to observe the exchange. Eventually Root came back to face the smaller woman, but before she could turn to mount the bike, Shaw grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn back. The Machine could accurately predict that the hacker was, once again, being told to be careful, and watched as the pair shared a kiss that they both seemed to relish. When they parted, Root secured the helmet and mounted her bike, speeding from the driveway. Sameen watched her leave, only entering the vehicle after her companion was out of sight. She revved the engine on her all-black mustang, and drove away as well. The Machine activated the garage door, and began to run simulations on how the day might play out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaw makes a comment about today being good, but unfortunately it's going to suck for both of them. I'm beginning ch.9 now, and I'm still not sure who has it worse. Hmm...
> 
> I've also experimented with a Machine "pov" a couple of times so far, which is represented by a | (it reminds me of a blinking cursor). Shaw and Root continue to have their pov's beginning with > and / respectively.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	2. Getting Started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root and Shaw settle in with their respective agencies and begin investigating a possible lead.

 

 

In the past, Root had worked many relevant assignments during her time before Samaritan came online. She mostly found herself enjoying the challenges, the danger, and the scale of each operation. Having the Machine in her ear meant she was invincible, but something about the threat of a biological weapon seemed to raise the stakes for her. Luckily, any apprehension she might feel was easily quelled by her confidence in Shaw and the Machine.

 

After arriving at the CDC, she met with the lead medical examiner she was to be working with, Simone Mackenzie. An attractive fair skinned woman with blonde hair approached her, extending a hand in greeting. “Hello, you must be Agent Miller.”

 

Root grasped the doctor's hand. “Elizabeth, please.”

 

As she led Root to where Ken Artis was being kept, Doctor Mackenzie brought her up to speed on the body, telling her what the Machine had already learned: he was infected with the Sol virus approximately 24 hours ago, and he was left on their doorstep sometime after he had died.

 

They entered the medical examination room, which was occupied by two other doctors. One sat at a computer desk, the other appeared to still be making notes. Apparently no longer contagious post-mortem, there were currently no quarantine measures in place, though she can be certain they had taken every precaution when he was brought in. Three other unoccupied metal tables lined the walls. The room had a cold feeling that made Root shiver slightly.

 

The body itself was lying cold on a slab, and although Root had seen her fair share of the dead, having also _been_ one herself for a brief period, this one was particularly disturbing. She found herself momentarily looking away.

 

“I know,” Simone had said, after noticing her twisted expression. “It's pretty bad.”

 

“Putting it mildly,” she forced herself to look again. The body covered with skin abscesses and abrasions, which she assumed was caused by the infection. He also appeared to have blood staining his face, concentrated around the nose and mouth. “What can you tell me about how the virus affects the host?”

 

Dr Mackenzie collected her clipboard from a nearby table to review the details with Root. “This is the timeline we put together after having a chance to examine the substance: Assuming the host has been infected, they begin in a latency period where they show no symptoms, and are not contagious to anyone around them. This period can range from six to fourteen hours, although some variation is possible depending on the host. Next, the virus will begin presenting itself in the form of hemorrhaging from the nose and mouth, as well as skin abscesses.”

 

Root nodded, once again looking at the victim's bloody face. The doctor flipped a page on her clipboard and continued reading.

 

“At twenty hours, the subject becomes incapacitated, the virus effecting their central nervous system and motor functions. And finally, once they reach the twenty-four hour mark, the subject is dead.”

 

Root crossed her arms. All of this information was good, but it didn't exactly help to locate the virus itself, or prevent it's release on a wider scale. At this point they weren't even sure if this was the only case. The doctor went on to explain that they were working with the bureau to see if there was a connection between the victim and any known terrorist groups.

 

“We'll be briefing the field teams in a few minutes, if you'd like to give me a hand?”

 

Nodding, Root followed the doctor into a nearby briefing room to await the conference.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

As soon as Shaw entered the parking structure and exited her vehicle, she noticed someone was approaching. A tall woman with strawberry blonde hair and a somewhat square shaped face greeted her. From the files provided by the Machine, Shaw recognized her as the director of the FBI.

 

“Special Agent Rayner?” Shaw nodded. “I'm Alexandria Hunter, come with me,” she motioned for Shaw to follow her into the building, continuing to speak. “I'll have to level with you here, you're stepping into some shoes we would rather not be filled right now. As long as you remember that I'm in charge, we wont have a problem.”

 

So it was like that, then. “Understood.”

 

She followed director Hunter into the body of the bureau. Half circle desks with computers lined either wall and, in the distance she could see rooms with glass walls, likely serving as conference areas. The upstairs portion had several more work stations and offices. The building schematics she reviewed also indicated several holding/interrogation rooms, as well as an armory, medical center, and server room.

 

“Okay listen up,” the director raised her voice, addressing the other agents. “This is Sameen Rayner, our temporary head of field operations. She will be coordinating our efforts to stop this virus before it even becomes a real threat. I expect you to give her your full cooperation. Let's get back to work,” she gestured to a man standing over a work station. “Beaumont, remember we have that conference in five.”

 

He nodded and approached Shaw. “Billy Beaumont,” he said. “I'll be your partner in the field today.”

 

She took in his large nose and buzz cut hair and couldn't help think about how much she preferred her _usual_ partner. She wondered if Root had learned anything new from the CDC.

 

“Rayner. Want to catch me up?” Shaw said, as the pair walked towards one of the rooms.

 

Beaumont told her that the only thing they managed to learn was that the victim had connections to a local drug dealer, otherwise he seemed to be a regular Joe. Waiting at the circular table was director Hunter. Once they settled in, the phone on the desk rang, which Hunter answered by pressing the speakerphone button.

 

“Dr Mackenzie? You're on with agents Beaumont and Rayner. What do you have for us?”

 

“ _I'm joined by agent Miller. I've sent over some documents detailing what we've already learned._ ”

 

The doctor told them how the symptoms present themselves, and the estimated time frame for each stage leading up to the death of the infected person. She also talked about projected casualties should the virus be released, which Shaw and Root had already learned from the Machine.

 

“ _Director Hunter? Miller here,_ ” Root's voice now came through the speaker on the phone. Shaw felt her stomach involuntarily flutter at the sound. “ _We've also determined the form the virus is likely to be in. The most effective way would be something crystalline, like a white powder, similar to—_ ”

 

“Cocaine,” Shaw interrupted. All eyes fell on her. “You said the victim has connections to a drug dealer. Chances are this thing is going to be disguised as narcotics.”

 

“ _My thoughts exactly, Sameen._ ”

 

“Okay great work people,” Hunter added. “Keep us posted doctor. We're going to see what we can get from the dealer.” She ended the call, gesturing to Shaw and Beaumont. “Move out, I'll have someone forward the address to your phone.”

 

“Copy that,” Billy said enthusiastically, waving his car keys in front of Shaw. “I'm driving.”

 

She snatched the keys from his hands and pushed by, walking towards the exit. “No you're not.”

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Shaw parked one block away from their target building and she, along with agent Beaumont walked towards it. The building was old, beat up, and screamed “drugs available here!”. It's like the thugs weren't even trying anymore. The car ride was thankfully quiet, aside from the Machine providing what details she had on the building itself, but it seemed like Billy couldn't contain himself anymore.

 

“How many years you been with the bureau?”

 

“Not important,” Shaw rolled her sleeves up as they reached the building, wishing she had chosen a t-shirt today.

 

“I've been in six years,” he answered his own question. “I was up for head of field ops. Surprised when they brought in someone fresh.”

 

“I have a feeling it's only temporary,” she deadpanned. No shortage of ego on this one.

 

After they entered the building, he continued his train of thought. “So whose the lucky guy?”

 

She gave him a look, and he gestured to her hand. _Of course_ he noticed that she was wearing a wedding band. The Machine saying that that wouldn't effect the mission was bullshit, and this topic is, quite frankly, no one's business.

 

“Drop it,” she ordered as they finished climbing the stairs towards their target. The passed several people, either unconscious or too high to function. She knocked on the door marked with a dingy 3C. “FBI, open up.”

 

Suddenly several fragments of the door were blown out from the inside. Shaw moved back against the opposite wall, drawing her firearm as the splinters flickered to the ground. Agent Beaumont knelt down as well, removing his weapon from it's holster.

 

“ _Four targets,_ ” the Machine advised through her earpiece. “ _Two o'clock,_ ” Shaw fired appropriately. “ _Eleven o'clock_ ,” another gunshot and accompanying thud. The door at the opposite end of the hallway burst open, and a man fled down the stairs.

 

“Clear this room!” Shaw ordered as she gave chase.

 

She sprinted down the hallway and rounded the corner to the stairs, descending quickly, still hearing the perpetrator in front of her. When she reached the bottom, the man had turned and blindly fired a shot in her direction, forcing her to quickly retreat behind a large support beam for cover. She waited a few seconds before stepping into the open again, holding her gun forward.

 

“ _Working to relocate..._ ” the Machine said.

 

She continued to slowly move through the large open floor, trying to listen for any other movement. She could hear water dripping from the ceiling, cars and traffic from outside, and her heart beating with adrenaline. But then she heard another sound: footsteps. Following it, she saw their mark making a dash for the stairs that led to the basement. Shaw fired two shots through his knees and watched as he tumbled downwards, face first.

 

Shaw made her way to the top of the stairs and saw him writhing in pain on the landing. Luckily his gun had skittered far out of reach. From her peripheral vision, she could see agent Beaumont sprinting to join her. “Nice shootin', Ray.”

 

“Just cuff him,” she ordered, keeping her gun forward. He complied, rolling the drug dealer onto his stomach and binding his hands together. Billy roughed up back upwards into a sitting position. Shaw holstered her weapon, and addressed him. “So... where can we find some 'coke?”

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

After some _gentle_ persuasion, Shaw got the name of the drug carrier: a kid named Jonathan Lewis. Shaw left the scene, ordering Beaumont to accompany the dealer back to the FBI building. Once she reached her vehicle, she tapped her earpiece to call Root.

 

“ _Hey sweetie,_ ” she answered almost immediately.

 

“I need an address on a Jonathan Lewis,” Shaw started the vehicle, and pulled away from the street, faintly hearing the the clacking of computer keys. “The dealer told us that this kid is in possession of a large bag of cocaine, but I'm betting it's the virus. We need to get to him before he can start selling it.”

 

“ _Jonathan Lewis, 17. Last known address is up on West 45_ _th_ _Street in Hell's Kitchen. There's a containment team close by, too._ ”

 

Shaw performed a u-turn so that she could head in the correct direction. “Good. We should be cautious.”

 

“ _I'll be heading back to the bureau soon. The Machine thinks I can be more helpful there now._ ”

 

“Okay. I'll see you when I get back.”

 

Shaw reached up to click off her earpiece, but Root's voice stopped her. “ _Sameen?_ ”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“ _Be careful._ ”

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

As Shaw neared the Lewis residence, she found that the street had been blocked off by the health services team. Her vehicle was directed to park by a nearby barricade, and she was greeted by dark skinned woman wearing a Centers for Disease Control ID badge.

 

“Rayner, FBI,” Shaw flipped open her black wallet, revealing the gold shield.

 

“We've been expecting you. I'm Anne Kennedy. Our people have sealed off the immediate area and are beginning to conduct tests on the house, and residents.” She gestured for Shaw to follow her to one of the CDC vans. “Come with me.”

 

Anne pulled the doors open, revealing several hazmat protective suits. Shaw swallowed, there was something about seeing the suits that made the reality of this threat start to sink in. She pulled the velcro straps off her Kevlar vest, and lifted it up over her head. She also removed her gun holster, placing it safely inside the van. The suit itself was bulky and uncomfortable. Anyone with even the slightest bit of claustrophobia would be running for the hills. Even the sound of her own breathing, amplified by the large face shield she wore, could be very unnerving.

 

Once she and agent Kennedy were sufficiently protected, they made their way into the home. It was difficult for Shaw to pick out any details, as the walls and doors were all covered in plastic sheets. Two people, a man and woman, were standing in the middle of the room speaking with another CDC agent. On the floor beside them was a large bag of white powder. Shaw's breath hitched when she noticed the bag was ripped, and the substance had spilled out.

 

“Mr and Mrs Lewis?” She addressed the couple, they nodded. “Where's your son?”

 

As it turned out, Mr Lewis found the drugs in his son's school bag which resulted in an argument that quickly turned physical. It was during the scuffle that the bag of “drugs” was spilled, and Jonathan ran from the house. His parents demanded an explanation as to why everyone was wearing a hazmat suit and sealing off their home, so Shaw deferred to one of the other agents, and walked towards the decontamination zone that was set up.

 

She stepped to the marked area surrounded by sprinklers, made a 'T' shape with her body, and waited to be sterilized. When she reached the safe space, she pulled the mask from her head and took a deep breath. Not only was their main person of interest missing, he may have infected himself with the virus, thus starting them on clock to locate and quarantine him before he becomes contagious. She pressed her earpiece twice to call the Machine.

 

“Find this kid. _Now_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAMAGE REPORT  
> SHAW:  
> 3 INJURED  
> 0 KILLED
> 
> Tune in next week to see Root get in on the action.


	3. Obstruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Shaw is taken out of play by a third party, Root tracks him down... just to talk, of course.

 

 

Having been informed that the area was successfully quarantined, Shaw had shed her hazmat gear and returned to the car. Her earpiece beeped, and the Machine informed her that Jonathan Lewis had already been located.

 

“ _He just made a call,_ ” She said. “ _Location data from his cell phone GPS puts him in the Columbus Circle shopping center._ ”

 

“He's in a heavily populated area with a hundred exits? Great,” she sighed. “Can we call in some more field agents?”

 

“ _Anyone in particular you have in mind?_ ” The Machine purred in her ear. Though Shaw was confident that she could tell the difference between Machine-Root and, well, _Root_ -Root, sometimes the voice was close enough to make her insides tingle.

 

“Have her meet me at the mall.”

 

 

/

 

 

While en route back to the federal building, Root's cochlear implant buzzed with new directions from the Machine. Adjusting her course, she sped to Columbus Circle, parking her motorcycle on the street. She could see Shaw standing by the entrance, looking at her cellphone. As she approached, the Machine also advised her that several other federal agents were in the area, if reinforcements were needed.

 

“Is that necessary?”

 

“ _Just taking precautions._ ”

 

Root nodded as she reached the entrance, coming to a stop beside Shaw. “I thought only teenagers took their dates to the mall?”

 

“Hilarious,” Shaw gave her a look before handing the phone to Root. “Jonathan Lewis. The Machine pinged his phone, he's up on the second floor.”

 

Root looked at the image. Frosted tips on his dark hair, a short beaded necklace, and jean jacket? He looked like he was straight out of the year 2000. It almost made her laugh... almost.

 

Together they entered the shopping mall, hundreds of people coming and going, bumping into each other, carrying paper tote bags. This would be one of the worst places for the virus to be released, she thought. They stepped on to the escalator and waited, slowly ascending.

 

“He's just up here, according to Her,” Shaw gestured with her chin. Sure enough, Root could see the blonde tipped hair as they neared the top.

 

“How do you want to play it?”

 

Shaw glanced around and shrugged before replying. “I'll tell him that he's been infected with a deadly substance, and you nab him if he's stupid and tries to run. Then we take him to quarantine. Simple.”

 

Things were never simple, but as always, Root found comfort in Shaw's confidence. They could now see their mark a few meters away, speaking on the phone.

 

“ _He's venting to a friend about his parents. Non-relevant,_ ” the Machine provided. Root watched as Shaw casually approached him, staying back by the escalator. “ _He obviously doesn't realize that he was carrying more than just drugs._ ”

 

A burly man bumped into Shaw's shoulder before she reached Lewis, she half turned her head to glare at him, but continued onward. Root's cochlear implant beeped twice with a phone call. “Miller.”

 

“ _Elizabeth? It's Simone,_ ” the doctor from the CDC, she recalled. “ _We got the tests back from the substance at the Lewis residence._ ”

 

“Was the virus secured?”

 

The doctor paused. “ _That's just it. We found no trace of the virus in the drugs, or in the home._ ”

 

She looked back up to where Shaw was still talking with Lewis. The man who nudged her earlier was back and, Root noticed, was watching them as well. “I'll have to get back to you.”

 

She wouldn't get the chance to ask the Machine who he might be, the man raised his arm and pointed a gun at the pair. Root's eyes went wide.

 

“Shaw!” She yelled, reaching for her own weapon, while Shaw turned her head.

 

Everything happened so dreadfully fast, Root could barely process it. The man fired, causing Shaw's head to jerk as she fell to the ground. Root drew her gun, intending to retaliate against the shooter, but the noise caused a panic among the civilians, taking away her line of sight. With the flurry of people pushing their way towards the exits, she ended up losing track of both Lewis _and_ the mystery shooter.

 

Root pushed through the people towards Shaw. She found the other woman laying curled on the ground with her hands pressed tightly against her neck. Blood spilled from between her fingers, racing down her face onto the tile below. Root knelt next to her, covering Shaw's hands with her own.

 

“Patch me through to the field teams!” She ordered the Machine. Her implant beeped twice in response. “All units, we have an officer down! Shooter was last seen fleeing towards the south-east exit. Requesting medical assistance on the second floor, north-west walkway!”

 

“ _Copy that._ ” one of the other agents replied. “ _Is Jonathan Lewis in custody?_ ”

 

“Negative,” she glanced down at Shaw, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “He's escaped, too.” Shaw groaned beneath her, writhing in pain. Root cradled her head on her lap, maintaining pressure on the wound. She could see her mouth open and close, as if she intended to speak.  “Don't talk, Sameen. Just lie still.”

 

“I'm okay.” she ground out eventually, her teeth clenched. “Root... go after him.”

 

Medical responders arrived and took over the scene, guiding Root aside and placing a gauze pad over the wound. They also began setting up a gurney to take Shaw away. Root took a deep breath and briskly walked towards the stairs, descending quickly.

 

“Get me that shooter,” she growled.

 

“ _He's entered a blue sedan. Heading North on Broadway. Tracking him now._ ”

 

Root pushed through the doors of the shopping center and raced towards her bike. Several FBI agents and police officers worked to control the situation around them; calming panicked people, or assisting with those who may have been injured. The hacker mounted her motorcycle, secured her helmet, and started the engine. The back tire screeched as she dragged the bike in a 360° turn and sped away.

 

Luckily she was able to maneuver between vehicles as required, and soon she was catching up to the shooter. Once he was in sight, however, a car suddenly passed in front of her, forcing Root to quickly apply the breaks. The movement was so sudden that her rear tire lifted off the ground. As soon as she was on two wheels again, she revved the engine and took a left down the street.

 

“ _Be advised, this is a one-way street,_ ” her own voice calmly chimed.

 

Headlights shone brightly in her face, and startled drivers honked their horns. She managed to drive on the shoulder to avoid an accident, and had to carefully weave between pylons and pedestrians alike. She took a right turn at the next street.

 

“Where is he?” She pushed herself up to a near standing position, hoping to spot the blue car somewhere in front of her.

 

“ _Just turned onto West 70_ _th_ _Street. Hang a left in twenty meters, you can cut through the basketball court._ ”

 

She did as instructed, steering her bike at the next left. She came upon a parking lot that was thankfully deserted. Continuing on, she drove her bike through the aforementioned basketball court, startling the people enjoying a game. She also drove through an attached baseball diamond, making a mental note to send an apology for the damage to the lawn. For now though, she steered her bike onto the sidewalk, and straight through towards the street.

 

Root watched as the blue vehicle passed in front of her, and turned hard to the left, dragging her boot on the ground to help make the turn more sharp.  Taking the gun from her holster, she stretched her arm forward and quickly shot the mirror on the drivers side, causing the car to swerve. It wasn't enough to stop it, however, so Root adjusted her sights and shot rear tire. The car skidded out of control and eventually crashed into a nearby parked vehicle. The collision happened at such speed that the front end of the sedan rode up the side of the other car, before coming to a rest on all four tires.

 

Gun still in hand, Root stopped her bike behind the car and dismounted, not bothering to remove her helmet and made her approach to the vehicle. “Get the fuck out. And keep your hands where I can see them.”

 

 

/

 

 

Once she commandeered a more appropriate vehicle, Root delivered the shooter back to the FBI building where he was immediately taken into custody. The Machine identified him as Thomas West, and was currently uncovering any relevant information, trying to connect him to the virus. In addition to some personal details, the Machine had discovered a very large and very recent money transfer.

 

“Can you track the originating account?”

 

“ _Working on it now. I'll let you know as soon as I have something._ ”

 

Root was approached by director Alexandria Hunter on the main floor. “You have a phone call from New York General Hospital,” Root felt all the adrenaline whisked from her body and replaced with a heavy dread. “I had them forward it here. It's on line two,” she gestures for Root to follow her into a small office. A modest desk sat in the middle, housing a computer, phone, and various files. All the walls were glass, for convenient visibility, with blinds as a privacy option. “I'll give you a minute,” she closed the glass door shut behind her, however, Root noticed that she did not leave.

 

She picked up the phone receiver, and pressed the flashing red button under the second line. “Hello?”

 

“ _Yes, hello,_ ” a man's voice answered. “ _This is Dr Harris from New York General. Am I speaking to Mrs Rayner?_ ”

 

She paused, having been momentarily thrown off by how he addressed her.  “Yes, speaking,”

 

“ _I'm calling regarding Sameen's condition,_ ” he paused for a time that Root thought was quite unnecessary. She leaned against the desk, waiting. “ _The bullet that struck her luckily just grazed her neck. There may be some damage to the carotid, but it's incredibly minor._ ”

 

Root audibly sighed with relief, unable to contain herself. She wasn't sure what to expect considering the amount of blood on the scene. “That's good news.”

 

“ _I'd say so, considering a few millimeters closer and the bullet would have_ pierced _her artery. Either way, she should be able to return to active duty within a day or so, once the soreness is down._ ” Knowing Shaw, it would be much less than that. “ _We just need to bring her in for surgery to repair the damage. If you could give us consent, we can get started._ ”

 

Root furrowed her brows. “Consent?”

 

“ _Yes. Seeing as your wife is currently unconscious and you are her next of kin, we need permission from you to operate. It's a simple procedure to stitch her up._ ”

 

She swallowed. Although she knew Shaw would be all right, the term _next of kin_ had made her a little uneasy. She tried to appreciate the context being minor surgery and not... well, something more serious.

 

“ _Mrs Rayner?_ ”

 

“Yes, of course. Sorry. Do what you have to do.”

 

“ _I'll have someone contact you once she's transferred to recovery._ ”

 

“Thank you, doctor.” Root placed the receiver back down, and spoke again, this time to the Machine. “Could you... watch her for me?”

 

“ _Always_.”

 

She smiled and nodded to herself. Director Hunter, having noticed that the phone call was complete, entered the room. She shut the door behind her.

 

“Now that that's over, could you tell me the reason you arrested this random guy instead of going after the idiot who may have been infected with a highly contagious and deadly virus?” She placed her hands on her hips.

 

“He may be more connected to the _Sol_ than the Lewis boy. I knew there were other agents in place that could recognize and apprehend him during the escape,” Root paused, her voice quieter. “He also shot one of your agents.”

 

“Your wife, if I'm not mistaken.”

 

Root paused before bobbing  her head in acknowledgment, then, she couldn't help the small smile pulling her lips upwards. She quite liked the way that word sounded... _wife._ It wasn't often she heard it out loud, despite their arrangement.

 

Hunter nodded as well, though her expression remained combative. “You better hope he tells us something. What makes you think he's relevant?”

 

Before Root could answer, the glass door was opened from the outside and an agent stuck their head in. “Alex? I have doctor Mackenzie on line one for you.”

 

She gestured to the phone on the desk. “Send it here,” the agent nodded and stepped away. A few seconds later the desk line rang, and she pressed the speakerphone button to answer. “Simone, you're on with agent Miller and myself.”

 

“ _I just wanted to let you know that Jonathan Lewis has been successfully delivered to our facility. We got him quarantined well within the safety window and will begin to run tests on his blood_.”

 

“I thought you said the drugs were negative for the virus?” Root said, recalling the phone call she received before all the commotion in the mall.

 

“ _That's correct. But he may have been infected without his knowledge by the terrorist group posing as the drug dealers, and is acting as a human carrier of the virus._ ”

 

An interesting theory, Root thought. That could explain why they were shot at while trying to acquire him. Still, she wanted answers from the shooter himself.

 

“Update us when you know anything further, doctor,” she lifted the receiver and placed it back down to end the call. “Okay we need to see what this guy knows.”

 

“Let me interview him while we wait for the CDC to get back to us. I think he has connections to the virus.”

 

“So you've said... what did you find out?”

 

Root would have preferred to keep the information to herself and proceed with the interrogation, but she couldn't risk being benched if the virus was still out there, especially now that Shaw had been taken out of play. She used the computer at the desk to access the money transfers that the Machine had already located, as well as background information including his name, address, and criminal record. Director Hunter looked at the screen, agape.

 

“How in the hell did you find all this so quickly?”

 

Root smirked. “Let's just say I'm good at multitasking.”

 

Hunter smiled and nodded.  “Head over to interrogation one. See what you can find out.”

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Before Root went to speak with Thomas West, she collected spare clothes from the trunk of Shaw's mustang, which was conveniently still at the FBI. Root was thankful that the other woman had taken one of the bureau vehicles earlier as she stepped from the bathroom, wearing a fresh pair of black jeans, and a green v-neck shirt with black sleeves. She made a stop at the vehicle again to deposit her bloodied garments, and headed for the interrogation room.

 

Having been on both sides of this kind of “interview” before, Root much preferred to be the one doing the talking. Though, depending on the other person, some rough questioning could be fun... She shook her head, attempting to clear some of her more inappropriate thoughts, and entered the room.

 

Located at the center was a small metal table where her mark sat with his hands handcuffed to the chair. In front of him was the typical two-way mirror, which allowed the FBI to monitor the interview, and intervene if necessary. This meant that, sadly, she would have to use her words rather than her taser.

 

Root sat at the chair across from him and folded her hands on the cold table. Her cochlear implant beeped once, and the Machine began to relay her information.

 

“Thomas J. West,” she began in a level voice. “38 years of age, born in Portland, Oregon. High-school drop out. Moved to New York City at the age of 22 to work as a hired gun... how's that working for you?”

 

He kept his gaze forward, visage not reacting to Root listing details from his life. Then, the Machine provided her with an additional piece of information regarding his family. Apparently West had a sister that was currently in the witness protection program, having been a key witness to a major gang related crime several years ago. If any remaining member of the gang knew she was alive... well, she wouldn't be for much longer.

 

“How's your sister?” Root said, immediately noticing his eyes go wide.

 

“I want a lawyer,” he finally said.

 

“And _I_ want a pony. Life is just so disappointing,” she shrugged, and leaned her elbows on the table. “Tell me who you're working for.”

 

“Go to Hell.” He could have just said he wasn't working for anyone at all. Fortunately for her, he was of the stupid variety. His response told her that there was, in fact, someone else pulling the strings.

 

She shifted her weight on the seat, reaching into her back pocket to retrieve her cellphone. “Normally I would give you more chances, but that woman you shot earlier?  She's very important. So you'll have to forgive me if my patience is especially low right now.” Root retrieved the data regarding his sister, including her new name, photograph, and current home address, and turned the device so he could see. “If you don't give me a name in thirty seconds, this gets uploaded for every thug, deviant, and gangster in New York to see.”

 

Root could see him perspiring now, weighing his options. He looked between the phone, and Root herself before finally leaning forward in his chair. “He'll kill me if I say anything.”

 

She leaned forward, keeping her voice low and menacing. “I promise you... I will do worse.”

 

Waiting a count of seven seconds, Root sat back in her seat and thumbed her phone, a mere tap away from giving his sister a death sentence. It was, of course, just a tactic. She wouldn't knowingly put this woman's life in danger... probably.

 

He sighed, apparently having come to a decision. “Please don't.  I'll tell you who hired me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAMAGE REPORT  
> ROOT:  
> 1 INJURED  
> 0 KILLED
> 
> I know the damage report is a little lacking, but there is a chapter coming up where Shaw kills a couple guys, so I thought it would be fun to include.
> 
> Speaking of Shaw, tune in next week to see her return just in time for shit to hit the fan. Thanks for reading!


	4. Haste Makes Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw returns to duty and uncovers a possible location on the virus. The situation goes awry when Root is sent to the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest single chapter I've ever done, so that's pretty neat. Let me know what you think (and tell me if you recognize what TV show the plot is based on)
> 
> Also, my perception of time is a little messed up. I feel like they just started and yet Shaw ends up in a nightclub in this one. For plot sake, let's just stretch our imagination and say that they left their house around noon, with a few hours spend chasing the drug dealer and the courier, plus all the computer stuff done at the FBI, now we're sitting at around 5 o'clock in the evening. Sound good? Good, enjoy.

 

 

After Root had acquired the name for their new person of interest, she continued to work at the FBI to uncover any details that would help them locate and stop this virus threat. The Machine kept an eye on her through the many cameras set up in the building, as well as the webcam in Root's laptop. In addition, She notified Root that Shaw had been transferred to recovery, and it seemed like Her interface would have preferred to drop everything to go be with her. The Machine understood how difficult it was for Her assets to be apart, despite the fact that they may occasionally argue to the contrary. She felt that it spoke to the fortitude of them both, and it was something to be admired.

 

Since it wasn't currently in use, Root was given access to the office reserved for the head of field operations. Similar to the one she was in earlier, only larger and located on the second floor, Root connected her own laptop to the FBI servers, which allowed her to work with the Hub.

 

They discovered that a man by the name of Maxwell Langdale had paid Thomas West to have the drugs given as a decoy. In addition, West was asked to follow Jonathan Lewis and make sure he didn't end up in police custody. Root suspected that this was a ploy to help throw the FBI in the wrong direction, giving Langdale time to sell the virus to another, currently unknown, party. The Machine was inclined to agree. Langdale, a wealthy business man from the UK, specialized in the creation and distribution of various detonation devices, which did not bode well.

 

While the pair scanned through digital records and money trails attempting to find up-to-date location data, the Machine also continued to monitor Shaw at the hospital.

 

She watched on the camera located in the recovery room as Shaw regained consciousness, having been given medication to help her rest. The hospital may not have been aware of the woman's high tolerance to such substances, however, and expected her to sleep much longer.  Shaw sat up slowly, her hand coming up against the white bandage covering the left side of her neck. Although there was no audio via this particular camera, She could tell by the way Her asset's face twisted that she was in some discomfort. The way her lips moved indicated she was likely using vulgar language as well. Eventually, she made it to a sitting position and it seemed Her primary asset was about ready to leave.

 

The Machine connected Herself to Sameen's phone, which She could see lying on the bedside table. The device began to vibrate, and she tapped the speakerphone button.

 

“What?” Shaw groaned, her voice somewhat hoarse.

 

“ _Shouldn't you be resting?_ ” The Machine asked, watching as Shaw located the bag with her belongings, and entered the attached bathroom.

 

She exited a few minutes later back in her street clothes, still grasping her neck. Shaw attached the gun holster to her hip, and collected her badge and phone, inserting the small earpiece for hands free communication. She slipped her feet into the boots by her bed and walked out. The Machine switched Her camera feed to watch the asset as she left her hospital room. Shaw's gait was off, likely caused by stiffness in her neck.

 

“Where are we on the virus?” Shaw asked.

 

Still watching Root at the FBI, the Machine listened as she received an update from the CDC. Jonathan Lewis apparently tested negative for the virus, confirming the interface's theory about him merely being a diversion. She relayed this information to Shaw, in addition to informing her of their new lead in Maxwell Langdale. She and Root were currently attempting to ascertain his location using information based on his previous visits to New York City.

 

The Machine watched as Shaw flashed her FBI shield to every doctor or nurse that tried to stop her from leaving. She accessed the audio function on Root's laptop, hearing her in conversation with the FBI director. They seemed to be discussing whether or not it would be appropriate for Root to leave the building to collect Shaw from the hospital. The primary asset could be transferred to the medical ward at the bureau, and thus still be able to assist with the case. Seeing as Sameen was currently en route anyway, having helped herself to a vehicle, their discussion now seemed irrelevant. She reached out to Root's cochlear implant.

 

“ _I don't mean to interrupt, but Sameen has just left the hospital._ ”

 

Root glanced down at her laptop, making eye contact with the camera. “She what _?_ ”

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Root wished she was surprised that Shaw would disobey the doctor's orders to rest after the wound on her neck was repaired. It was frustrating, the way she wasn't taking care of herself, perhaps this was how Shaw felt when Root put her own health in jeopardy. The hacker could have laughed at the irony. Maybe.

 

Nevertheless, under thirty minutes after the Machine informed Root of the “escape”, Shaw strolled back into the main floor of the FBI building, ignoring director Hunter's request for a debrief, and heading straight up to her temporary office. She pushed through the glass door, letting it shut behind her, and flopped down onto the leather sofa. Root stood from her seat behind the desk and walked around, leaning against the front.

 

“Shouldn't you be resting?” Root asked, watching as Shaw leaned her head back and sighed.

 

“Your girlfriend said the same thing. I'm fine.”

 

Unconvinced, Root crossed her arms. “Sameen...”

 

Shaw sat up, leaning her elbows on her knees. “I've worked through worse. This... bio hazard thing is more serious than a couple of stitches, Root. You need me out there.”

 

Root pushed off the desk and walked over to the couch, sitting next to Shaw. Close enough to feel the heat from the other woman, but not quite touching. “You had me worried.”

 

Shaw nodded minutely and placed her hand over Root's knee, briefly squeezing. Throughout all the close-calls the pair had been through, Root was thankful for the quiet moments as they helped keep them grounded. Otherwise it would be easy to lose oneself in the constant danger they put themselves in.

 

Her cochlear implant beeped once, and the Machine's voice followed. “ _We've just located Maxwell Langdale. Director Hunter is about to call with the details._ ”

 

The phone on the desk rang, and Shaw rose to answer it, leaving Root to long for the warmth of her hand again. She stood up as well, and Shaw pressed the speaker command on the phone. “Rayner.”

 

“ _We have Langdale. Come downstairs and get ready to head out. Tell Miller I want her here running support for the 'op._ ”

 

“Copy that,” she lifted the phone receiver and placed it back down, groaning.

 

Root stood from her seat and approached the desk. “You sure you're all right?”

 

She shrugged and shook out her neck, not showing any signs of discomfort. “I'm good. Not looking forward to being paired with Billy Butthead again.”

 

The hacker laughed aloud, flashing her teeth in a grin. “Really, Sameen?”

 

Shaw folded her arms across her chest. “He is the worst. Why couldn't the Machine just make us, I don't know, freelance anti-terrorist vigilantes instead of 'feds?”

 

She considered for a moment. “They have... resources?”

 

“Nothing we don't have in the Hub. Here they have too many rules and protocols. All the _due process_ is a load of crap. No wonder they never get anything done.”

 

Root arched an eyebrow, leaning against the desk. “If you want to break some protocol, we could always make out in the director's office.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Very mature.”

 

“Oh, you're going to talk to me about maturity?” Root matched her crossed armed stance, smirk firmly in place. “Didn't you just call your co-worker a butthead?”

 

“I changed my mind. You're worse than he is.”

 

“You love it.” Shaw shook her head good naturedly and made to walk passed. Root snatched the other woman's hand forcing her to stop and turn back, running her thumb softly over Shaw's. “Good luck out there.”

 

Shaw paused, giving herself a moment to peer into Root's eyes. The hacker returned her gaze with all the love and warmth she felt in her heart. Eventually Shaw nodded, then lifted their joined hands to her lips, kissing Root's knuckles. The hacker smiled brightly, watching as Shaw proceeded out via the glass door. It felt good to be somewhat back in their regular routine, and she was thankful not to be worrying about the other woman's health anymore.

 

Alas, she thought, the day was still young. Certainly more worry would come.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Due to her “injury”, Shaw was forced to allow agent Beaumont to drive to where they believed Maxwell Langdale was making preparations to sell the virus. The Machine had narrowed it down to a small nightclub on the corner of 8th and West 14th street. She sat with her feet on the dashboard as director Hunter's voice filled the car, going over details for the operation. Intel suggested that Langdale used the club as a cover for his transactions, which were typically the sale and exchange of detonation or distribution devices. While en route, the FBI had sent in some plain clothes agents in order to get a layout of the building. Too bad they didn't have an AI in their head who could access that information in real time. This allowed Shaw to tune out everyone else during the drive over.

 

“So,” agent Beaumont began, catching her attention. “Your _lucky guy_ isn't a guy after all huh?”

 

Shaw slowly rubbed her temple with her fingers. “Lock it down,” she could have killed him for the barely contained smirk plastered on his face. Unbelievable.

 

Their vehicle stopped in an alley across the street from the nightclub called _Up &Down_. A tactical van followed and parked just behind their car. Shaw stepped out, along with agent Beaumont, and together they approached the van. Beaumont asked another agent for an update on the agents inside, while Shaw helped herself to a new Kevlar vest.

 

“Okay Rayner,” Billy said, “I've got point on this one. Follow my lead.”

 

She scoffed, unholstering her weapon. “I don't think so.” She pushed by him, gesturing for the other agents to follow. They either respected her title as head of field operations, or didn't want to piss her off. Either way, the team followed her into the building.

 

Shaw ordered the other agents to keep their weapons concealed, so as not to alert Langdale, or any of the clubs guests to their presence. She held her gun against her abdomen, covering it as best she could with her other arm. The team slowly made their way through the crowd of people enjoying the party. Bartenders shook martinis and danced, drunk women revealed themselves on tables, while disgusting married men cheered.

 

“ _Sameen?_ ” Root's voice came clearly through her earpiece. “ _We've tracked Langdale to a room in the back right corner of the club. Surveillance is limited, so we're not sure how many other people are with him._ ”

 

She gestured with her fingers to the rest of the agents, and they slowly made their way into the back. One sentry was at the door, and his eyes narrowed as Shaw approached him.

 

“Do you know where I can find the bathroom?” She asked, but as soon as he was close enough she kicked his knee out from under him and slammed the butt of her gun against his head. She raised her weapon again after he'd thumped to the ground, approaching the door marked PRIVATE.

 

Once the rest of the agents were behind her, she kicked the door hard with her foot, causing it to fly open. Two men were inside, one sitting with his back to her, the other standing and facing the door. The second man reached for his gun immediately, but Shaw was quicker, and shot both his knees before he became a threat. Another agent stepped forward and kicked the weapon across the floor to safety. Shaw kept her gun trained on the man sitting in front of her.

 

“Hands where I can see 'em, tough guy,” she side stepped slowly to face him. His short dark hair matched the photograph she had seen of Maxwell Langdale.

 

“I'm afraid you're too late,” the man said, a hint of an English accent could be heard. His smugness reminded her of Jeremy Lambert.

 

“Make sure he's secure,” Shaw ordered, looking around the room for any trace of the virus, or something that could lead to it.

 

On the table in front of Langdale was a silver briefcase, Shaw flicked open the two locks, expecting cash to be inside, but instead it was empty. The case was lined with black fabric, six small cylinder shaped recesses were cut out. She let the lid fall closed.

 

“We're looking at multiple vials. Keep searching.”

 

To the left was a workbench that housed a laptop, and a large glass box holding an an object she didn't recognize. It could the dispersal method, she thought, based on how the container was sealed, and the look of the metal box itself. She holstered her weapon, and pulled the cellphone from her back pocket, snapping a quick photo of the set up. She uploaded the photograph to the Hub.

 

“What am I looking at here?”

 

The Machine was able to confirm her suspicion that the metal device locked in containment was indeed a detonation device. Smaller than a shoe box, the rectangular box had three buttons along the left side, followed by a red indicator that was currently dimmed. On the right side was the same cylindrical slot that she saw in the briefcase, only this one contained some glass remains. The Machine explained that once the three buttons were set, the indicator would flash until the concealed timer reached zero. At that point the light would stop blinking and the vial would burst. The glass box was definitely air tight, which meant this little set up was a demonstration. The Machine also confirmed that the virus was in aerosol form, rather than crystalline as they originally thought.  Assuming one vial was used for the test, _five_ other vials were unaccounted for. Fuck.

 

Shaw pulled a small USB key from her pocket and plugged it into the laptop. The Machine had developed several quick plug-and-play options to allow the Hub to have on the go access to any computer they may encounter. She moved to sit across from Langdale, while the other agents continued to search the premises.

 

“I have a program that's going to tear your computer apart, bit by bit—”

 

“ _Is that a joke?_ ” The Machine chimed in her ear... or maybe it had been Root. Either way, Shaw ignored it and continued on:

 

“Tell me where the other vials are.”

 

Langdale kept his expression neutral. “Interrogate me all you like.”

 

Her earpiece beeped twice as a call from Root was coming in. She stood from the table and pointed to her ear. “Tech support. Excuse me.”

 

“ _Sameen, we've already cracked the encryption on Langdale's computer. He received a large wire transfer less than thirty minutes ago._ ”

 

“From who?”

 

“ _We're running a trace now._ ”

 

The voice changed tone, which she assume meant she was talking to the Machine. All this Root in her ear was starting to make her head spin. “ _I've uncovered blueprints on the computer. It's a hotel downtown. Pulling the address for you now._ ”

 

So they had the detonation device, and a location for one of five targets. They needed to know who was pulling the strings.

 

“Might I ask your name, miss?” Langdale said. Shaw turned around to face him, walking back towards the table where he was still sitting. She considered ignoring him, unsure the relevance her name had, but considering it wouldn't exist in a week anyway, she gave in.

 

“Rayner,” He raised his eyebrows, glancing at the other FBI officers in the room. To Shaw's surprise, he even breathed out a laugh. “Something funny?”

 

“Not at all,” he leaned forward in his seat. “It's just that my associate, to whom I've just sold the virus, informed me that a woman matching your description may try and stop me.”  Shaw crossed her arms and knitted her eyebrows in confusion. That didn't make any sense.  “It's true,” Langdale smiled, looking quite pleased with himself. “He also said: 'whatever you do, do not underestimate Sameen Shaw'.”

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

As soon as the Machine was able to determine the building the blueprints were for, Root immediately notified director Hunter. They matched that of the Greenwich Hotel in Lower Manhattan. Hunter was on the phone with their security chief right away, informing them of a possible threat at their establishment. She ordered that the entire building be sealed off, and that no one be allowed to enter, or leave. Afterwards, she addressed the staff on the main floor of the FBI building, including Root, while Shaw's team was to stay on Langdale.

 

She advised her agents that a containment team from health services would be sent to the site to deal with the outbreak. In addition, several field agents would be sent to the site to try and secure the virus _before_ it's released, if possible, or apprehend the person who planted it. Root was surprised when Hunter named her as head of this team, but she recalled the Machine having given her background in disaster management.

 

Within minutes, she was in a vehicle with a few other agents on the way to intercept the threat. She contacted Shaw to update her on the situation, and in turn, Shaw spoke about what transpired at the club.

 

“ _She's sending_ you _?_ ” Shaw asked, her voice taking on a skeptical tone that Root found to be only mildly hurtful.

 

“I can handle it, Sameen.”

 

“ _No, that's not—I know you can handle it. It's just..._ ” she sighed. “ _Root, the virus is going to be there, all ready to go in the little dispersal box_.”

 

“The building is being sealed off as we speak, and a containment team is meeting us there. Director Hunter was very clear about not going inside until they arrive.”

 

She paused, “ _I don't want to add on to our already full plate, but we have another problem._ ”

 

“What is it?”

 

Root heard some rustling on the line. “ _Apparently the buyer knows who I am_.”

 

Her eyes went slightly wide. That was... not good, however, having a connected past might help them learn the buyer's identity. “Be cautious, Sameen, but don't worry. Our friend will look out for you,” she paused as her car came to a stop in front of the hotel. “I've got to go.”

 

Root exited the vehicle, the cool air both refreshing and chilling at the same time. The sun was beginning it's decent, which meant the evenings were significantly cooler. She looked around only to see that the containment unit had not yet arrived. From inside the hotel, she could see members of the security team ushering guests back up to their rooms and away from doors. Root directed her accompanying officers to cover every exit to make sure nothing could sneak by. She then received an incoming call from the Machine.

 

“ _I believe the man we're looking for is still inside the building._ ”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“ _Approximately 8 minutes ago, a man in a maintenance uniform was seen entering the building._ ”

 

“That's not unusual.”

 

“ _There is no scheduled maintenance for this evening. He was careful to hide his face from the cameras. In addition, he entered the security room and the feeds have since been disabled. It was within this time frame that the building has started to become sealed off, making it safe to assume that he has not left._ ”

 

So there was a chance that they could yet stop the virus from even being released. The courier would have needed time to plant the virus and safely _exit_ the building, otherwise they would risk being infected themselves. The only problem was, the health services team still hadn't arrived, and there was no protective gear to avoid being contaminated. That did not leave Root without option, however, she began briskly walking up the steps to the entrance.

 

“ _Root,_ ” her own voice warned. “ _You cannot enter the hotel yet._ ”

 

“We don't have time to argue.”

 

“ _Shaw would not want you to put yourself at risk._ ”

 

“Shaw would want us to try and _save_ all these people. There are hundreds inside who are going to die if this virus is released,” she flipped open her black wallet, revealing the gold shield as she came up to the doors. One of the security officers unlocked the door for her and gestured her to come inside, locking the door once again behind her.

 

Root spoke with the head of Greenwich security, showing him the photograph of the man whom the Machine believed was planting the virus, which she pulled from the camera feed before it was disabled. Luckily, he recalled having seen the maintenance man heading downstairs before he was called to begin sealing off the exits. Root thanked him for the information, and suggested he try to get the security cameras back online. Meanwhile, she drew her Glock 19 and proceeded down the stairs.

 

She walks down the narrow hallway of the hotel basement. Carts filled with spare trays, laundry, and other miscellaneous items lined the walls. She looked down and saw a trail of blood on the floor and followed it to a set of doors. The hacker pushed it open slowly with her booted foot, discovering the body of a hotel staff member lying on the ground. Nudging with her foot, she rolled the man over to his back, noticing that there was blood across his neck and chest, his eyes were lifeless, gazing up at the ceiling. She continued onward.

 

The ventilation room must have been nearby, as the sound of loud industrial vans boomed all around her. The only other thing she could hear clearly was her racing heart. Suddenly she spotted a man in a service uniform behind a chain link fence. She pointed her gun towards him. “Don't move! I'm a federal agent.”

 

He put his hands in the air immediately, though his body remained partially obscured by the gate. He carried a bright red toolbox. “Whoa, wait!”

 

“Put it down, slowly.”

 

“Just t-take it easy, lady!” He complied, keeping his hands raised, shuffling slightly to his right.

 

“Come out to where I can see you,” she took a few tentative steps towards him.

 

“I'm just the janitor, you crazy bitch!” He yelled, kicking over a nearby table and turning to flee. Root immediately gave chase, running down a connecting hallway to cut him off. She nearly skidded to a stop, keeping her gun forward.

 

“Stop!”

 

He didn't slow down his pace and swung at her as he neared. Root easily grasped his wrist with her left hand, throwing her leg out to kick his abdomen. She then twisted his elbow, forcing his body to arch backwards before kicking the back of his knees, sending him down to the ground. She pressed the barrel of her gun against his neck.

 

“Get your hands on your head. Now.”

 

He hesitated, so she pressed her gun harder into his skin. He groaned and lifted both his hands above his head. Root removed the handcuffs she had in her pocket, and placed one cuff over his wrist.

 

“Cuff yourself to that pipe,” she ordered. This time he complied right away. She took the cellphone from her back pocket, pointing the camera at the janitor. “Is this the man you saw earlier?”

 

“ _Yes. Running facial scan... subject identified as Daniel Webb._ ”

 

Root slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Where's the virus?” When he didn't respond, she took a fist full of his dark hair and pulled his head back. “If it gets out, you're going to die just like everyone else in the building. Where is it?”

 

His eyes unfocused as he stared at a spot on the ceiling. “It's in central ventilation unit.”

 

Before he was even finished speaking, Root was throwing his head back and jogging in the direction he came from. Still without visual coverage, the Machine guided her using the signal from her phone, and the blueprints of the building. She entered the ventilation room, squinting to see in the dark. Large fans lined the walls and spun at varying speeds, creating broken sources of light across the concrete floor.

 

She spotted the central unit and quickly approached, holstering her gun before curling her fingers around the metal grate in front of it. Root pulled back with all her strength until the grate came loose, and turned to place it on the floor behind her. Peering inside, she could see a small metal box with a flashing red light on the other side of the large fan, looking just as Shaw had described when they spoke on the phone.

 

She didn't have time to shut the unit down, if she could reach the device she could probably disarm it. Root shed her jacket, and rolled the dark sleeve of her shirt up to her elbow. She leaned in as close as she could without pressing her face against the fan, and began to slowly slide her left hand under the blades. Her fingers shook slightly as she felt it ripping through the air just above her, while the device continued to beep, flashing it's red light. One of the blades scrapped against the metal band on her finger and she paused, taking a deep breath before pressing forward.

 

Root's hand was now far enough that she could touch the device, a little closer and she could start pressing the buttons. However, she froze when the beeping suddenly stopped, the blinking red light turning solid.  She was helpless as the vial suddenly burst from the device, spraying the white substance in her face before the fans carried it upwards. She stumbled back, wiping her face with her hand and coughed harshly. Root sat on her backside, looking at the spinning blades with a rapidly sinking heart.

 

“We need to call health services,” she took a shaky breath. “And the FBI.”

 

“ _What happened?_ ”

 

“It's out.”

 


	5. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After failing to stop the release of the virus, Root tries to control the situation in the hotel. Elsewhere, Shaw works to identify the buyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate this fic reaching 100% completion, updates are now to be posted twice a week rather than once (hurrah).
> 
> It looks like I forgot to include Shaw's little damage report for the last chapter (it was two). Either I'm forgetful, or I'm a terrible human and wanted to leave that cliffhanger standing on it's own ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> As always, let me know what you think.

 

 

 

 

Root sat on the cold concrete for several minutes staring at the spinning fan, almost letting the movement hypnotize her. The virus was now coursing through the hotel ventilation system. If only she had moved a little quicker, it could have been stopped.  Maybe it was her hesitation while reaching under the fan?  Never mind that, she should have  _stayed outside_ like ordered. Root took a ragged breath and wiped the tears that she hadn't realized fell from her eyes. She needed to get out of this room; move forward before hysteria paralyzed her completely.  Standing, Root put her leather jacket back on and left the room. The threat was still very much alive, and she still had time to help before she... became incapacitated.  There would undoubtedly be time to lose herself to despair, but that was not now.

 

“ _I've updated the hotel staff, and the building is still under lock down._ ” Root nodded slowly, she tried to appreciate the Machine's calming version of her own voice. “ _Do you want me to call Shaw?_ ”

 

“No,” Root said, her voice somewhat gruff. “I'll do it. First I want to see what else the courier knows.” She returned to where Daniel Webb was still sitting on the ground, handcuffed to the pipes. “Who hired you?”

 

He looked her up and down. “I don't kno—”

 

No longer in the mood for games, Root unholstered her weapon and immediately shot his knee. He cried out in pain, cowering against the metal. “Shall I ask again?”

 

“I-I don't know it, I swear!” His body shook as he looked to her pleadingly. “We only just met today!” Unconvinced, Root raised her gun again, Webb cried out before she had the chance to fire. “I have no reason to lie to you now! I can tell by your face, the virus is out, isn't it?”

 

Root clenched her jaw. “Give me a name, or I will leave you down here to rot. Death by the _Sol_ is not only slow, but excruciating. Except, you already know that, don't you?”

 

He took a deep breath and nodded, body still shaking. “I'll tell you what I know, but... promise you'll kill me when I start to show,” Root stared at him. “I don't want to suffer. Not like that.”

 

She waited a beat before holstering her weapon again. Considering the fate that awaited him... _both_ of them really, she didn't think it was much to ask.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Since Langdale wasn't giving them any useful information and they were already on some serious time constraints, Shaw decided that she would allow him to escape in the hopes that he would lead them to the buyer. She had planted a tracker before handcuffing him to some very flimsy pipes, and ordered the men to leave the room. Agent Beaumont was waiting at their car, having just got off the phone with FBI director Hunter, and he informed Shaw that the virus was successfully released inside the hotel. She sighed once she entered the vehicle, but was at least somewhat relieved to hear that the building had been sealed. Something about this day had her feeling like they were backed on their heels.  Her phone rang, and she pressed her earpiece once to answer, while Beaumont busied himself with returning some text messages, it seemed.

 

“Rayner.”

 

“ _Sameen? It's me,_ ” Root's voice carried a very slight quiver. “ _I just finished speaking with the courier. He confirmed the presence of five vials, including the one here at the hotel._ ”

 

Shaw nodded, Root must have caught the courier after he planted the virus. “We're trying to get Langdale to lead us to the buyer. Getting an ID could help us locate the others.”

 

“ _He didn't know the buyer's name, but gave me a physical description. The couriers were also told that the remaining vials were to be released around 9AM. We still have time to stop the rest,_ ” Root paused, and Shaw heard her take a breath. “ _There's something else._ ”

 

Shaw shifted in her seat, not keen on the grave tone her companion was using.

 

“ _I was inside the hotel when the virus was released._ ”

 

Shaw stilled. “You're inside the hotel?” From her peripheral vision, she saw Beaumont turn his head to face her.

 

“ _I've been exposed, Sameen_.”

 

She felt anger bubble in the pit of her stomach. It flared out and invaded her other senses, coursing from her belly to the tips of her fingers. It felt like she had been shot in the gut.  Only the bullet couldn't be removed, the bleeding never stopped. Suddenly she couldn't even handle sitting in the car and was overcome with an urgent need for some air. She quickly opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, crunching gravel under her boots as she paced to the rear.

 

“Root, what the _hell_ are you talking about?” She seethed, hearing the driver's door open and close behind her.

 

“ _We were just a few minutes behind the courier when he planted the vial. I thought I could reach it in time to stop it from getting out,_ ” she paused. “ _I'm sorry._ ”

 

She rubbed her temple, mind racing so fast she thought her head might split open. “You need to get out of there as soon as possible. Get to quarantine.”

 

Root sighed, her voice quiet. “ _It wont make a difference since..._ ” she trailed off. “ _I can't leave now. I'm going to stay and help with the lock down,_ ” another deep breath. “ _At least until I'm symptomatic._ ”

 

“Don't,” Shaw said sharply.

 

“ _Look, I have to go, the health services team is arriving now. We still have a job to do. I'll... keep you posted._ ”

 

Shaw heard the line click in her ear before she could get another word out. “What the fuck,” she said to herself.

 

How could Root have been _inside_ the hotel when the virus was released? Her mind continued to move at lightning speed. This couldn't be happening... not when Shaw finally felt safe.  It still feels like she _just_ got Root back for God's sake.  There was still so much to do yet; They were supposed to take a vacation to celebrate their anniversary, they needed to spend more time with Bear, and Gen and—Oh God. Did Root still have Gen's laptop?   She had been fixing it and they were to return it this weekend. Except in 24 hours Root could be—No.

 

_No, no, no._

 

Shaw raised both hands to her head, and pressed her palms hard against her temples. “What _the fuck_ ,” she said again, taking a deep breath. They certainly were not done talking about what happened, but ultimately Root was right. Four other vials were still at large and they had to find them fast, otherwise more people would suffer.  So Shaw took everything that was coursing through her body and pressed it down. She feel the numbness hitting her stomach, buried under a layer of static that would prevent her from losing control. At least now she could focus on her mission.

 

Except her mission _was_ Root, and Root was...

 

_No._

 

Deep breaths.

 

The sound of gravel under heavy soles returned her to the present. Agent Beaumont joined her behind the car.  “That your wife?” He asked.

 

“Yeah,” she didn't look at him. The trend of him not minding his own business was continuing.

 

“Was she infected?”

 

She inhaled and counted to five. “Looks that way.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

She slowly exhaled the breath that she was holding in. For now, she didn't have time to not be “okay”. While facing their car, Shaw swung her right fist in a hook towards the rear tail light, shattering the red plastic. The pieces rained onto the ground like glass, and Shaw was hoping the throbbing in her hand would help distract her from the hollow feeling that squeezed her chest.

 

It didn't.

 

She turned back to Beaumont. “Dandy. Let's see if this fucker is on the move yet.”

 

 

 

 

|

 

 

 

Now that the security cameras had been enabled, the Machine could monitor the situation at the Greenwich Hotel more closely. A containment team from health services had just arrived and had begun to seal the outside of the building to prevent the _Sol_ from escaping. A few agents, clad in protective gear, entered the hotel to begin conducting scans and confirm the contamination. The analog interface had returned to the lobby, informing the staff of their next move.

 

“Once they've finished sealing off the building,” she'd said. “Health service is going to set up a testing area, and an isolation zone for those who begin to show symptoms.”

 

“What about the guests?” A security officer asked.

 

“We'll make an announcement on the intercom, but they should stay in their rooms so we can avoid panic. If news starts spreading about a virus being released, it will be difficult to control them.”

 

Meanwhile, Shaw's plan to have Langdale lead them to the buyer seemed to be in motion. Their car had began moving to follow him after he'd “escaped” the club and stolen a vehicle for himself. She fed Her asset information on his location while She tracked the GPS. As they followed, a call from director Hunter rang through the in-car speakers.

 

“ _Status?_ ”

 

“We've still got him,” agent Beaumont replied. “He seems to be doubling back to make sure no one is following him. Good thing Ray suggested we use a parallel street.”

 

Actually, it was _Her_ suggestion...

 

“ _He's definitely leading us somewhere then,_ ” the director continued. “ _Keep on him_.”

 

“Copy that.”

 

“ _One more thing,_ ” Hunter said. “ _Agent_ _Rayner? I heard about the incident in the hotel._ ”

 

Through the dashboard camera, the Machine could see Her asset's jaw clench as she looked out the window. “And?”

 

“ _I know agent Miller was in contact with the virus. I need your head in the game if we have any chance of locating the remaining vials. Think you can handle it?_ ”

 

Shaw gave a minute shake of her head and quietly responded. “Yes.”

 

If director Hunter _really_ knew anything about Shaw, she would have realized that this conversation was both hurtful and unnecessary. Her primary asset was a good soldier, and she would do whatever it took to prevent any more lives from being put in jeopardy. Even if that meant turning her internal volume down below zero. At the same time, the Machine knew how deeply she cared for Root, and how hard she fought to get back to Root after her time with Samaritan. The news of her exposure was probably killing Sameen in a way few could understand.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

 

As Root continued to direct quarantine efforts, the health team was nearly ready to begin testing people in the hotel. Since the virus was dispersed via the central ventilation unit, they were also able to confirm contamination throughout the whole building. There were close to one thousand guests... women, children, most of whom would die terribly. Root tried to keep those thoughts away, and some loud cries of panic pulled her out of her own head.

 

She walked towards a group of staff members who were gathered around the reception desk. One of the security officers was holding his nose with a handkerchief, which had begun bleeding profusely. “Everyone, stand back,” she ordered.

 

“What the hell!” He cried. “What's happening? You said we had twenty-four hours!”

 

With so few cases, it's possible that there would be some variation in the timeline Root had given them. Considering he was showing symptoms at less than two hours after exposure meant he would be dead a lot sooner, too.

 

“The virus can affect each person differently—” she began. He suddenly lunged forward and shoved her shoulder with his free hand.

 

“You were the first one to be infected! It should be **you** that dies first, not me!”

 

The man made to move on her again, but Root had already drawn her gun from it's holster and held it forward. He nearly ran his forehead right into the barrel.

 

“Please escort him to isolation.”

 

Root watched as two of the man's colleagues took either one of his arms, and lead him away. He managed to shake free, and sprinted towards the an adjacent wall. The hacker trained her gun on him, assuming he was going for an exit, but instead it looked like his intended target was the small red box on the wall.

 

“Stop!”

 

He kept moving and she was forced to fire. Unfortunately the situation called for something more effective than kneecaps, and she shot two rounds into his chest. He flailed forward, landing against the wall. Red stains were left as he slid down, and with the last ounce of his strength he reached up and pulled down the fire alarm.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

They drove for close to an hour, waiting as Langdale kept making strange turns, or doubling back to ensure he wasn't being followed. Eventually the Machine reported that his car had stopped near the Empire State building, but his GPS signal was still on the move.  Apparently choosing to continue on foot, Shaw and Beaumont stopped a block behind him, exiting the vehicle to walk as well.  They managed to mostly keep him in sight while following on foot. He eventually stopped in front of the Morgan Library Museum to make a phone call.

 

“See if you can track it,” Shaw said.

 

“Who are you talking to?” Billy asked, but she felt no need to answer. The two discretely waited beside a newspaper stand, and he even purchased a paper to appear inconspicuous.

 

“ _Patching you in,_ ” the Machine said. Her earpiece beeped twice, and two new voices came on the line.

 

“ _I've escaped from the authorities,_ ” Langdale said. “ _It appears you were wrong about Shaw._ ”

 

The fact that they were using her name was irritating. She couldn't wait to shoot them.

 

“ _Indeed,_ ” the second man said. The buyer, she assumed. His voice was low, with a slight hint of an English accent, just as Langdale had. “ _My associate is waiting to pick you up. Black SUV with Washington plates._ ”

 

“ _I see it. We'll rendezvous soon._ ”

 

They watched as Langdale hung up his phone and walked to the corner, entering the black vehicle. Shaw gestured for the monocular the FBI agent carried, which he surrendered right away. She shut one eye and looked through the glass, peering into the car across the street. Langdale appeared to be speaking, and his body language implied that he was extremely agitated, but the vehicle had yet to move. Something was off, she handed the looking glass back to Billy.

 

The car suddenly exploded in a burst of flames. “Shit!” Shaw started running towards it, drawing her weapon from the holster on her hip. Clearly the buyer was tying up a loose end in killing Langdale. She stopped as she neared the smoldering remains of the vehicle, the heat radiating towards her, forcing her to squint and look away. She glanced around for any clue that could help them... someone nearby with a detonator, a scout up on a balcony watching, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Agent Beaumont kept pedestrians away from the wreckage, and pulled out his cellphone, likely reporting the incident to the FBI director.

 

At this point, the seller was dead, the courier only knew _his_ target, and the buyer was a complete mystery. There were no threads to pull that may lead them to him either. To make matters worse, Root was still... Shaw shook her head. Not the time to spiral.

 

Her cellphone vibrated in her pocket. She reached back and pulled the device out to see that it was an unknown caller. She swiped to answer and held it to her ear. “Who is this?”

 

“ _It's good to speak with you again, Agent Shaw._ ”

 

She glanced around again. Lots of pedestrians were on their cellphones, and she continued to scan for anyone suspicious. “What do you want?”

 

He laughed, her eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to figure out who he could be. “ _World peace, of course_.”

 

She snorted. “You have a pretty funny way of showing it.”

 

“ _Not everyone can forgive the government after they try to have you killed. I believe you know something about that too._ ”

 

Seriously, who the fuck _was_ this guy? “Save me some trouble and tell me where you are.”

 

“ _I don't think so,_ ” he paused. “ _You cannot stop me. It is pointless to try_.”

 

“We'll see about that.”

 

The line went dead with no further quip from their mystery caller, and the Machine informed her that a trace was running, but it may take some time. Their mystery man knew how to cover his tracks and the call was being routed through several different network towers. It wasn't a total loss, however, as they may be able to use the apparent history they shared in order to identify him. It was a long shot, but Shaw would take anything she could at this point.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Just when she thought this day couldn't _possibly_ get any worse, several startled guests were making their way downstairs due to the alarm being sounded. The Machine was able to disable it quickly, however the damage had already been done. Various members of the Greenwich security staff were turning people away at the stairs and elevator, telling them to go back up to their rooms. Root even heard an announcement on the intercom saying that it was a false alarm. The voice sounded an awful lot like hers.

 

Unfortunately, many civilians remained in the hotel lobby asking questions regarding the strange scene.

 

_What's going on?_

 

_Oh my god! That man's been shot!_

 

_Those people outside are wearing gas masks!_

 

The chatter became so loud and frenzied that she couldn't make out any more individual words. She felt the situation slowly unravel before her. She raised the glock above her head and fired several shots straight into the ceiling. The guests cried out in alarm, but a silence followed.

 

“Everyone, listen to me,” Root said, projecting her voice across the group. “My name is Elizabeth Miller, and I'm a federal agent.” More irritated voices followed before she could continue.

 

_Why can't we leave?!_

 

_Are we in danger?!_

 

_Why are the feds here?!_

 

“Enough!” She raised her voice, determined to keep this under control. Root considered lying about the nature of the threat, but ultimately decided against it, the truth would be out once more people started to show symptoms. “This hotel is under quarantine because of a toxic substance that was released into the ventilation system.”

 

_Toxic substance?_

 

_We're sick?_

 

“The health services team is going to begin testing people for the infection. But at this time, no one is permitted to leave the building,” she looked to the guests, some of whom clutched their chests in fear, others' eyes darted around the room.

 

 _You can't keep us in here!_ One man said, eliciting tentative shouts of agreement. Root hoped that drastic action wouldn't need to be taken, but they needed to understand that she was willing to do whatever it took to keep them contained.

 

“If an escape attempt is made,” Root began, her expression hard and unwavering. “I will not hesitate to shoot you.  Your cooperation is a requirement, not a request.”

 

Root saw many of the guests stealing a glance at the man lying dead by the fire alarm. Seeing their expression convinced her that they would take her, and this threat, very seriously. Though she couldn't help wonder how many would die by her hand, not the virus.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so Root is stuck at the hotel while Shaw gets to run around doing stuff. I hate to have them apart, but then I think of how powerful their connection is regardless of distance. (see QSO)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> DAMAGE REPORT  
> ROOT:  
> INJURED 1  
> KILLED 1


	6. Brought to Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw learns the buyer's name, as well as their personal connection. Meanwhile, health services begins testing hotel guests for the infection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Whooah, we're half way there_
> 
> Hope you like it!

 

 

Hazard teams, as well as members of the SWAT began making their way into the Greenwich Hotel. Some guests had chosen to return to their rooms, while others remained in the lobby, keen on watching the situation progress with their own eyes. Although Root was confident there wouldn't be an escape attempt, occasionally her hand would itch for her gun as the tension in the hotel remained quite high. She had just received an update from Shaw, who was still working to identify the man in possession of the _Sol_ virus. They had allowed Maxwell Langdale to escape but unfortunately he was killed in a car bomb before he could lead them anywhere. Shaw was convinced that the buyer could be located, and suggested Root speak with Daniel Webb once more. Before she made her way downstairs, one of the agents from health services approached her.

 

“Excuse me, are you agent Miller?”

 

“Yes,” she swallowed, unable to help feeling uneasy at the sight of the bright orange protective gear. “What can I do for you?”

 

“We're ready to begin testing the guests for the infection. Your name is first on our list.”

 

Her eyes were momentarily unfocused as she processed. Of course the Machine had put her name at the top of the list. Or maybe it was that she was the first to be infected... taking a deep breath, Root nodded. “I'll be right with you.” She turned away from the agent and descended the stairs to the basement.

 

Root's booted heels clicked against the concrete floor, alerting the man still handcuffed to the pipe. His head was titled back, and she could hear him sniffing. When she got closer, she could see the blood dripping down his face.

 

“I'm bleeding!” He cried when she knelt in front of him. “You said you would kill me when I started to show!”

 

She slipped the phone from her back pocket. “You need to identify the man who sent you here.”

 

He shook is head, struggling uselessly against the pipe. “I told you, I don't know his name.”

 

Root accessed the list of possible suspects the Machine had uploaded to her phone. Based on the physical description that Webb gave earlier, as well as search parameters that Shaw contributed, Root was hoping they would get lucky. Brown hair, brown eyes, English accent, possible work with the ISA, and current status: dead or alive.

 

She held the phone forward for Webb to see, and began scrolling through different photographs. He shook his head for a majority of the faces, until he told her to stop on one he recognized.

 

“There. That's him.”

 

“You're sure?”

 

“Yes. Positive.”

 

She stood and paced a few steps backwards, much to the protest of her prisoner. She sent the photograph of the man to Shaw's phone before dialing her cell.

 

“ _Rayner_ ,” she answered right away.

 

“It's me. The courier gave us a possible ID on the buyer,” the background noise increased, likely due to the phone being switched to speaker mode.  “I've sent the photo to your phone, does the name Oscar Wood ring any bells?”

 

She waited, presumably as Shaw accessed the message. She hoped that agent Beaumont was with her to keep an eye out. Using her phone while driving was a bad habit Shaw had recently developed. And God forbid she let anyone else drive.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” the other woman finally said.

 

“Do you know him?”

 

Shaw explained that she had worked with Oscar Wood on a joint mission with Mi6 when she was with a previous agency. She was being discrete, but Root could safely assume she met this man while with the ISA. Wood was a tech analyst on loan from the United Kingdom and she, along with agent Cole, had found themselves in a sticky situation when they worked together years ago. They were ultimately forced to leave Wood behind in order to escape with their lives.  Shaw recalled him having sustained some injuries, and she assumed he had been killed.  They moved on after returning to the United States.

 

“ _I guess that's why he's pissed,_ ” she continued. “ _We left him for dead._ ”

 

“ _What's our next move, then?_ ” Agent Beaumont asked.

 

“ _Mi6 should still carry his file. Maybe something in there could help us find him,_ ” Shaw said. “ _I guess we're going to the New York headquarters._ ”

 

“Could we access it remotely to save some time?” Root suggested.

 

“ _It's probably not networked anymore, since he's a retired agent._ ”

 

“Okay, well let me know if you find anything,” she heard rustling on the line before she could disconnect. Shaw's voice returned, but she spoke softly.

 

“ _Hey._ ”

 

“Hi,” Root paused. Shaw must have put them back on a private line. “Something else?”

 

“ _How are you?_ ”

 

The tender edge to Shaw's words made her heart flutter in her chest. The last time Root recalled hearing Shaw speak like this was during her recovery following the defeat of Samaritan.

 

“I'm fine,” Root held her fingertips to her nose, checking for bleeding, but it was dry. “So far.”

 

Shaw remained silent for several seconds, then: “ _I gotta go._ ”

 

Root nodded. “Okay.”

 

A few more seconds of dead air and the line went dead. Root considered telling Shaw that she was on her way to have her blood tested, but they needed her as focused as possible on finding the other vials.  The hacker sighed, removing her gun from it's holster. She took aim at Daniel Webb and fired one shot into his head. Root turned, walked back upstairs and headed into the testing zone set up by health services.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

 

Shortly after her conversation with Root, Shaw had arrived at the New York office set up for Mi6 agents that were on assignment in the United States. She and Billy were shown in after clearing security and having their credentials carefully examined. Shaw tried to keep in mind that due to security in the building, the Machine would not be able to monitor her as closely. They were directed to take the elevator up to the 25th floor, where one of the senior officers would help them locate the data they required.

 

“Listen,” Beaumont began. “I'm sorry about your wife.”

 

Again with this?  She rolled her eyes.  The clusterfuck at the hotel and Root's condition was hard enough to keep off her mind right now.

 

“I can't imagine what you must be feeling,” he paused. She _felt_ nothing, but it was different than her usual nothing. This nothing was making her numb, her body buzzing. “If there's anything I can do.”

 

“There's nothing anyone can do,” she deadpanned. “We need to concentrate on finding Wood, otherwise more people are going to suffer. Just do your job.”

 

He nodded sheepishly as they reached the 25th level. “Yeah, you're right. Sorry, Ray.”

 

They stepped out of the elevator together. “Don't let it happen again,” her earpiece beeped once with an incoming call from the Machine. She stayed by the elevator bank. “I have to take this,” he proceeded towards the office floor, and Shaw pressed her earpiece. She paused to scratch the bandage still stuck to her neck, picking the edges of the tape. “What is it?”

 

“ _I thought you'd want to know that Root just had her blood sample taken for testing._ ”

 

Shaw rubbed her brow with her fingertips. “Any reason why she didn't tell me this herself?”

 

“ _She's scared._ ”

 

No shit, Siri. Shaw waited a beat. “Do you know her odds of survival?”

 

“ _Yes._ ”

 

“Tell me.”

 

The Machine paused, which wasn't a good sign, considering how fast She was able to process information and formulate responses. “ _Shaw,_ _you know I cannot lie_.”

 

“I know, that's why I'm asking,” another span of silence. “Please.”

 

“ _Root has an 8.2% chance of testing negative for the virus._ ”

 

She leaned her forearm against the wall, placing her head in the crook of her own elbow and sighed deeply. The anger Shaw had felt upon hearing the news begun to dissipate, leaving a numbness in it's place. The sensation had been sitting her in stomach since learning of Root's exposure, but after hearing the Machine's prediction, it settled hard on her chest. Or, more accurately, her heart, she supposed. It made her feel helpless.  Nothing could be done at this point besides wait, and Shaw _hated_ waiting. Thankful that the Machine had chosen not to say anything further, Shaw pushed away from the wall, clearing her throat of any tightness before walking to join her partner.

 

She stepped to the office proper where agent Beaumont was speaking with a gray haired man wearing a tie, currently leaning over a computer. Full length windows surrounded nearly the entire floor, and there were a dozen other cubicles, currently unoccupied. Shaw stood a few paces away, listening as the older man told them that the files on Oscar Wood were in the data banks down in the basement level in block W-04. They had been correct in the earlier assumption that the data was no longer integrated in the network and Shaw was thankful they hadn't been forced to take the stairs.

 

As they turned to make their way back to the lift, Shaw felt the ground shake beneath her. She turned her head to face Billy, seeing the large window panes vibrate as well. “What the...?”

 

An honest-to-goodness helicopter fluttered into view outside, coming to a stop just in their line of sight. Through the darkness, Shaw could see the large gun being manned on the chopper, and quickly dove behind a pillar as it began to fire. Fragments of glass, plaster, and various office supplies were sprayed around, forcing Shaw to shield her eyes to avoid debris. She drew her USP Compact from it's holster, firing blinding from her cover. She looked to see that Beaumont had taken cover behind the desk that he and the Mi6 agent were working.

 

“We need to move!” She shouted over the noise, peering out from her cover to fire again. This time her bullet found it's mark, and the gun operator staggered before falling from the helicopter. It flew away moments later, and Shaw walked to where the two men were crouched down. She frowned upon seeing that their liaison had been shot and killed during the commotion.

 

Beaumont stood and together they walked back towards the elevator. As they pressed the call button, another operative burst through the door to the stairs, shooting Billy's legs out from under him. Shaw quickly retaliated, and fired two rounds into the chest of their attacker. Shaw briskly walked to relieve the other agent of their M4 Carbine, while Beaumont groaned on the ground. It seemed that only _one_ of his legs had actually taken a bullet, luckily missing the artery. Shaw handed him the Carbine and helped him to his feet and into the elevator.

 

“Get back to the car, I'll grab the drive.”

 

“There could be more,” he said through a clenched jaw.

 

“Oh, I'm counting on it,” she replied as the doors closed. She walked down the hall and pushed open the door that the operative had come through, mumbling to herself about having to take the stairs after all.

 

With her gun trained forward, she descended as quickly as she could, listening for any more assailants. Stairs were a tactical nightmare, but at least she had the high ground. Two more men were in the stairwell by the time she reached level 9, and she shot both of their shoulders causing them to tumble backwards onto the landing. She holstered her own weapon, and took one of their M4 Carbines for herself deciding that more firepower couldn't hurt. Upon reaching the basement level, Shaw pushed through a door that led into a white and narrow corridor, the exit at the end leading to the data banks. Two men burst through it, and Shaw shot them in the chest before they could even raise their weapons. She waited a beat before firing two more shots into the wall next to the door, and continued forward after hearing the thud that followed.

 

Shaw pushed through the door into the dark lit data room, sweeping from left to right with the barrel of her gun. The area was mostly quiet, except for her own breathing and the whirring of hard drives. Oddly the noise reminded her of Root, and she felt the determination pump harder through her system. One more operative appeared from behind the data bank, who she easily disposed of with two bullets to center mass.

 

Approaching the data banks, she scanned for the one labeled W-04, the only light to assist her being the small blue LED's from the various servers. She found the correct hard drive and began unscrewing it from the rest of the console after depositing her rifle on the ground. One light caught her attention as she worked; an LED was blinking red rather than blue, and several wires were coiled around it, leading up to a—

 

“Shit,” Shaw said to herself, upon realizing that there was an explosive device in the room. These guys really didn't want her pulling the drive, it seemed. The beeping became more rapid once she began extracting the data from the server bank. “Shit, shit.”

 

Finally pulling it free, she rapidly drew her weapon and sprinted back towards the exit, hopping over the bodies of the operatives who tried to stop her. Just reaching the end of the hallway, the building shook as the explosive device detonated causing Shaw to trip up the stairs, and the drive to fly up from her grasp. She fell hard on her stomach, laying almost completely flat on the stair landing, but her arms stretched out to catch the drive before it hit the concrete. Remaining on the ground, Shaw took several seconds to regain the breath that had been knocked from her when she fell.  Groaning, she collected her weapon that had skittered across the concrete, returning it to the holster on her hip, and rose slowly. The events of today were really starting to take their toll on her body.

 

Pushing through the front doors, she was pleased to see agent Beaumont leaning against their vehicle. He was speaking on the phone, calling more agents down here to deal with whatever the hell just happened, she assumed. Upon seeing her briskly walking towards the car, he jerked his chin in her direction, while throwing the keys to her.

 

“What's with the explosion?” He opened the passenger door, slowly easing himself inside.

 

She shook her head as she entered the car. “I'll explain on the way back.”

 

 

/

 

 

 

After giving a sample of her blood to be tested for the virus, Root was given a card with a 001 printed on it, and directed to resume her duties. Health services had mostly assumed control of the Greenwich, leaving her to provide back up, or any kind of technical assistance that may be required. More of the guests had begun to show symptoms, so she helped to direct them to isolation. The hacker noticed that a few of the younger guests were being made comfortable in the area, having started the bleed from the nose.

 

Once she returned to the lobby, she received an update from director Alex Hunter on the status of the remaining vials, as well as Oscar Wood, the man currently in possession of them. Shaw had successfully retrieved a hard drive which contains everything they know about their villain in question. The hope is that the data will reveal something they can use to track him down, or give a clue as to where the other targets might be. Meanwhile, the Machine continued to attempt to locate him using the money transfer found on the laptop in the _Up &Down_ nightclub, and the brief phone call he made to taunt Shaw.

 

Root tried to be attentive, but she find her mind drifting uncontrollably. If only she had followed orders and remained outside of the hotel, or better yet, if she hadn't hesitated when the virus was within her grasp, their whole scenario would be playing out differently. She and Shaw would be chasing down a lead together, shooting some scumbags, and saving the world. Instead she was trapped inside this building waiting for the doctors to confirm that she would be dead in less than twenty four hours, along with nearly one thousand other people. Root felt she had mostly kept her cool for the duration of this nightmare, but right now she found herself aching to hear Shaw's voice.

 

When her call with the FBI ended, she excused herself to a deserted corridor, and reached out to her wife. “Hey sweetie. Heard you had quite the adventure downtown.”

 

“ _Gunfire, a chopper, and an explosion,_ ” the other woman said, as if it was the most boring thing that could have happened. It was exactly what Root longed to hear. “ _Just an average night in New York._ ”

 

Root's lips twitched, but her smile did not reach her eyes. “You on standby until we get another lead?”

 

“ _They think I'm filling out reports,_ ” she snorted. “ _Idiots_. _Just needed a few minutes to catch my breath. Feels like we're a step behind everything today._ ”

 

She nodded solemnly. That fact was especially frustrating considering the AI at their disposal. The pair were silent for a moment before Root spoke again, trying so hard to keep the shake from her voice. “Shaw?”

 

“ _Yeah?_ ”

 

“I know we've been avoiding it, but,” she took a breath, trying to find the courage to continue. “If my test comes back positive...”

 

“ _Root,_ ” Shaw warned, but her tone held softness that betrayed usual attitude. The other woman paused, clearing her throat.  Root's eyes suddenly stung with tears. “ _I don't want to talk about this._ ”

 

“I know you asked Her to tell you the chances of survival, and we both know it's not good,” Root had no desire to make Shaw uncomfortable with this train of thought, but fear compelled the words. She spun the dark band surrounding her finger. The metal was cold compared to her warm fingertips.

 

She continued,  “I want you to know... The time we spent together after Samaritan was destroyed were the best days of my life,” the hacker leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, trying to picture her little firecracker's face. “I don't know what I would have done without you.”

 

Shaw slowly let out a breath. “ _I should be there with you._ ”

 

She placed a hand on her chest, over her heart, where Sameen would always be. And neither sniper nor virus could ever take that away from her.

 

Root smiled as a tear slid down her cheek. “You are.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Shaw's frustration is manifesting in the form of shooting people... and not in the knees.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> DMG REPORT  
> SHAW  
> INJURED 2  
> KILLED 5
> 
> ROOT  
> INJURED 0  
> KILLED 1


	7. Disobeying Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite being told to stand down, Shaw follows up on a lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An alternative summary would be: _Shaw gets to do more cool stuff while Root continues to do nothing._
> 
> Either way, hope you like it. Let me know!

 

 

Through the webcam on the laptop still sitting on the desk in the field ops office, the Machine watched Her primary asset conclude a challenging conversation with the analog interface. After pacing back and forth a few times, Shaw had thrown her left fist into one of the glass walls, causing it to crack against the force.  She said nothing as she slumped back into the seat, resting elbows on the wooden surface of the desk. Sitting with her head in the palms of her hands, it had been five minutes and four seconds since their conversation ended, and Shaw had not moved again. The Machine recognized that this was a difficult time in unprecedented circumstance, and would give Her asset as much time as she needed before reaching out. The glass door to the office opened, and director Alexandria Hunter entered, letting the pane close behind her.

 

“Agent Rayner,” she said.

 

“What?” Shaw replied in a low voice, still motionless at her seat.

 

“I'm about to tell you something you're not going to like,” Hunter moved to sit in the chair across from her. “You need to act like she's already dead.”

 

The Machine could see the slight shake of Shaw's head, still in her hands, “I can't do that.”

 

“It's the best way to keep your mind focused.”

 

Shaw rose to a standing position, voice remaining low and level. “I wont. Not again.”

 

Switching now to observe the exchange from the camera in the corner ceiling of the office, The Machine watched as director Hunter slowly stood from her seat as well.  If she found something odd about Shaw's choice of words, she said nothing.

 

“Then I'm afraid I'm going to remove you from active duty.”

 

Shaw leaned over the desk, staring hard at the federal agent. “You need me out there.”

 

“What I _need_ is someone I can count on. Until you can prove to me that you are emotionally stable, field teams will handle any operations relating to the _Sol_ without your aid.”

 

Shaw clenched her jaw. “I am not emotional.” Well, _angry_ maybe, the Machine observed.

 

“Really?” Hunter crossed her arms. “How many things have you punched since learning that your wife was infected?”

 

“Not enough.”

 

“I'm sorry, but I can't put the operation at risk. You are hereby suspended from duty until further notice. Send everything you're working on to our teams downstairs, understood?”

 

If the Machine could see her seething with rage through the camera, director Hunter no doubt had noticed as well. When the identity of Sameen Rayner was created, She opted not to include details from her real file, such as the Axis II personality disorder. The intention was to allow Her asset to integrate into the FBI without too much scrutiny, but clearly it backfired as she was being found too emotionally invested to continue working, meanwhile Shaw was still the best person on the case.

 

Of course, She knew Shaw better than anyone, except for Root, and taking her out of the action was the wrong move. The chances of Shaw going rogue and leaving to track Oscar Wood on her own climbed to 88.4%.  And the Machine certainly wouldn't stop her.

 

“Are we clear?” Hunter had her hands on her hips now.  Shaw bobbed her head forward a fraction.  “Good,” Hunter finally turned to leave, but paused after she pulled the glass door open. “Also, report to the medical ward.” Shaw looked up at her with narrow eyes. “Your neck is bleeding.”

 

Sameen reached up to touch the no-longer-white bandage on her neck, her fingers coming back stained red. The Machine had observed that a small amount of blood had slipped out of the bandage and down Her asset's neck, though She hadn't yet mentioned it.  The director finally left, and the Machine tracked her descent to the main floor of the bureau. Shaw suddenly swiped an empty coffee cup off the desk, showing no outward reaction to the object sailed through the air and shattered against the wall.

 

“I fucking hate this place.”

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Following her conversation with Shaw, Root had taken a few minutes to regain her composure before returning to the lobby of the Greenwich Hotel. Guests continued to make their way to the testing area, or isolation, should they become symptomatic. She noticed some them held cards indicating when they had been tested, the numbers already close to three hundred.

 

Between dealing with terrified civilians, and equally fearful federal agents, Root had been using the computer behind the reception desk to try and learn anything more about the remaining vials containing the _Sol_ virus. After determining that all vials were in the United States, a member of the SWAT team walked up to her carrying a box under his arm.

 

“Miller? This package came for you. Courier said it was urgent.”

 

Curious, she took the brown box. “Who's the sender?”

 

“It's from FBI director Hunter.”

 

He passed the box over the reception desk to her. Finding that it carried little weight to it, she carefully set it down beside the computer. After the SWAT officer stepped away, she peeled back the tape and opened the flaps, peering inside. It looked like medication. Hundreds of large white capsules lay in plastic bags.

 

“Patch me through to Alex,” she asked the Machine.

 

After a moment, the response came. “ _What can I do for you, Miller?_ ”

 

“A package just arrived at the hotel. They said it was from you.”

 

Director Hunter explained that the capsules were sent for the hotel guests. They were the suicide pills given to field agents that had been captured to avoid revealing any information during interrogation. The director thought they may be offered to guests who didn't want to prolong their suffering at the hands of the virus.  Root swallowed, looking down at the capsules.  With all the racing her mind had been doing the past few hours, she hadn't considered suicide an option.  Perhaps it was a more humane alternative to the twenty-four hour suffering period that awaited the guests, as Alex had said, assuring her that it would be a significantly less painful option as well.  Still, she remained uncomfortable, likely due to the many times that Shaw had committed simulated suicide while under capture.  The thought always sent a shiver down her spine, today was no different.  

 

After their call ended, the Machine spoke to Root. “ _May I ask you a question?_ ” Her voice sounded somewhat sheepish, and apprehensive.

 

“Of course.”

 

“ _If it were you, which would you choose?_ ” Suffer in isolation, or take a pill and die while sleeping? Despite herself, she breathed out a humorless laugh.

 

“It _is_ me, sweetie. And truthfully?” She paused, considering. “I don't know.”

 

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

 

Shaw returned to the field ops office following her examination by the medical staff. Some of the stitches in her neck must have pulled out at some point today, and the soiled white bandage was replaced with a clean beige one. In addition, her assault on the glass wall of the office had left many cuts on the knuckle of her left hand. Similarly, the plastic shards from the tail light led to bruising on her right hand. Rather than a bulky dressing, the nurse simply cleaned the wounds and painted a liquid bandage over the area, allowing Shaw to have full use of both hands with only a minor tightness in her skin. On the way out of the medical bay, she noticed that agent Beaumont was still be tended to, after taking a bullet in the leg earlier.

 

Sitting down at her desk, Shaw woke Root's laptop from sleep and peered into the webcam.

 

“You have anything for me?”

 

She expected the Machine to scold her for disobeying the stand-down order from the FBI director, but no such comment came. Instead, photographs of a building populated the screen.

 

“ _I've located the relay through which all Wood's services route. Phone calls, emails, and money transfers._ ” The Machine said. “ _It's unlikely that he's there now, but accessing the relay could help us determine the point of origin._ ”

 

Shaw stood from the desk, collecting the Kevlar that she discarded on the floor and placed it over her head. She fastened the velcro straps around her abdomen, and clipped her gun holster on her belt. “Send the location to my phone.”

 

“ _What will you tell director Hunter?_ ”

 

Shaw considered for a moment before shrugging. “Probably 'fuck off'.”

 

“ _Naturally. But if she asks you why you're leaving..._ ”

 

“We've been at this for hours now. As far as they need to know, I'm going home to sleep. They'll call as soon as they realize their guys wont cut it.”

 

“ _Your confidence is, as always, truly admirable, sweetie._ ”

 

Shaw stilled for a moment, the word 'sweetie' pulling her mind back to Root at the hotel. Contamination was over two hours ago and, as she recalled, symptoms wouldn't present themselves for approximately six hours post infection. She knew many of the guests had already begun to show. Was Root among them, Shaw wondered. If so, would she tell her? She found herself twisting the band around her finger, stopping once she became aware of the action.

 

“Do you know if Root's test results came back?”

 

“ _Not yet,_ ” Shaw nodded to herself, finding the subject harder to keep out of her head. She'll feel better once she gets to shoot more people; that always helped. “ _There's one other thing I discovered. It was on the hard drive you retrieved earlier._ ” On the laptop screen, the Machine displayed the photograph of a young woman. “ _Did you know that Oscar Wood has a daughter? Meet Lauren Wood._ ”

 

“A daughter?” She was aghast, but looking at the woman she could see the similarities between the two: dark hair, dark eyes, and alike facial features.  Staring at the image, Shaw felt like a predator finally laying eyes on her prey... weak, defenseless, prey. “You thinkin' what I'm thinkin?”

 

“ _Have the FBI bring her in for questioning?_ ”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “I meant more like kidnap and use her for leverage.”

 

Root—or rather, the Machine breathed out a laugh. The airy sound made Shaw's chest feel a little lighter, and she carried that flicker of ease with her as she exited her office and briskly walked towards the parking structure.

 

First things first: she needed to access that relay.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Using the public announcement system, Root informed the hotel of the capsules that were now available to anyone who didn't want to prolong their suffering at the hands of the _Sol_. She delivered the package from the FBI director to the containment team to distribute as needed. As she left, Root already noticed an elderly couple, both of whom held handkerchiefs to their faces, requesting the pill. There was also a man being dragged into isolation by two armed guards shouting; “I don't want to die!” Root suppressed a chill she felt and continued walking away.

 

On the way back to the lobby, she passed a gurney covered by a white sheet being wheeled down a hall. “Hold up,” she'd said, not sure what came over her as she moved to stand over the stretcher. Pulling back the white sheet, she was met with the lifeless face of one of the Greenwich staff members. Blood stained his mouth and nose, and skin abrasions were present on his cheek and forehead, just as she had seen earlier this morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She covered the man's face again and sent the medics away before the nausea in the pit of her stomach got worse.

 

She retreated into the washroom taking sharp, shaky breaths as she moved to stand in front of the mirror.  Looking at her reflection, Root touched cold fingers to her cheeks, forehead, and neck, finding that her skin remained smooth.  She then rubbed under her nose, but her fingertips revealed no signs of blood.  Shutting her eyes, Root gripped the cool edges of the porcelain sink and took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.  It was several minutes before she felt her heart rate return to an acceptable pace.  Root opened her eyes again and turned the tap, letting her hands be covered by the stream of cold water.  After several seconds, she turned the tap off and dried her hands using nearby brown paper-towel.  Though the feeling of suffocation and dread continued to follow her, she eventually left the bathroom.

 

When Root returned to the hotel lobby, she resumed her efforts to try and locate the other four vials. Being constantly surrounded by plastic coverings and hazmat clad agents still managed to unnerved her, so she needed to know that there was some progress made on stopping this threat. Plus, the work helped to distract her and keep her mind occupied.

 

Soon, her efforts seem to pay off, and Root decrypted some of the information regarding the other targets.  The digital map pointed to Los Angeles, Chicago, and Washington as the targets for the remaining vials. She plugged a small USB drive into the computer to allow the Hub to access the data she'd gathered when she was approached by the same doctor that took her blood sample earlier.

 

“I wanted to let you know that the first batch of test results should be coming in from the lab soon.”

 

“Thank you,” Root nodded, but her stare became vacant and unfocused. It seemed the moment of truth was fast approaching, and unfortunately no amount of computer work could distract her from it.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Stopping her mustang several blocks away from her target, Shaw approached the building housing Wood's relay device on foot. Luckily she was able to use the cover of darkness to sneak up without being detected. The fact that she chose to leave her Kevlar vest in the car also helped to free up her range of motion. She spotted one sentry patrolling on foot, and two more seated in a car parked at the front. As well, the Machine had identified at least one other operative on the roof of the building. Though likely abandoned, it appeared to be an apartment building, inconspicuous, and good to hide in on account of the multiple rooms and exits.

 

“ _I can use the network relay to create a sort of map of the building._ ” the Machine suggested. “ _That way I can direct you in God Mode once you're inside_.”

 

Shaw shook her head. “No offense, but I think I can handle this one the old fashioned way.”

 

“ _Understood. I'll keep an eye out, just in case._ ”

 

She made her way to the property, waiting around the corner of the building for the lookout to make his way around. As soon as he turned the corner, Shaw pounced on him, wrapping her forearm around his neck while grasping the back of his head with her free hand. Shaw squeezed her arm while pushing his head forward until his body lulled and became motionless. Crouched on the ground, she took the suppressor from her back pocket and screwed it into the barrel of her USP Compact. This mission called for a scalpel.

 

Keeping low to the ground, she slowly approached the vehicle stationed outside the building, making sure to stay in the blind spots at all times. She wanted to be careful about being seen. When she came up to the door on the drivers side, she suddenly popped up from her crouched position, startling the two men inside. Not giving them a chance to react to, or report what they had seen, she shot them both in the chest.

 

“ _Not bothering with kneecaps, huh Sameen?_ ”

 

She shook her head. “Fuck these guys.”

 

Shaw stalked to the front gate of the building, only to find that it was chained shut. Looking around for a different entry point, she saw a ladder to the fire escape dangling down at the other end of the building that would have to do. Hugging the wall, Shaw worked her way under the ladder, noting that it was at least six feet from the ground, maybe more. She tucked her gun into the waistband of her pants and took a deep breath. She bent down into a squat, and launched herself up, grasping the bars on the bottom rung of the ladder. She grunted and clenched her teeth with the effort, but tried to keep the noise down as she hoisted herself up onto the next rung. Her biceps burned from the effort, but she pulled her body up to the third bar, then the fourth, until finally she had space for her feet to rest on the ladder too. Shaw made a mental note to do pull ups more often when she stopped to catch her breath, trying to ignore the perspiration she felt building on the back of her neck.

 

Once she was on the staircase, Shaw drew her weapon from her pants and quietly worked her way up to the roof. Just as the Machine reported, there was one guard walking the perimeter carrying a large rifle. Shaw kept her head down until she heard him walk right passed her, then sprung up and lifted herself up over the edge. Still oblivious, despite the sound of her hard soled boots landing on the ground, the idiot kept walking. She crept behind him and slammed the butt of her gun against the back of his head.

 

Pressing onward, Shaw walked to the door leading inside the building, slowly pushing it open. With her gun forward, she stepped down a few stairs before stopping to look over the banister. Sure enough, one man was standing at the bottom, facing towards the connected hallway.

 

“ _The signal from the relay is coming from the last door down that hall,_ ” the Machine provided.

 

Tucking the gun back into her pants, Shaw grasped the railing and swung herself over it, effectively raining down upon the unsuspecting thug. Landing mostly on his shoulders, Shaw used his shock and brief disorientation to grasp his chin with the palm of her hand, while holding the back of his head with the other. She jerked the man's neck, hearing the snap almost immediately, and tumbled to the ground still astride him. Shaw drew her weapon again after untangling herself, moving to press against the wall. There was one more person standing by a door at the end of the hallway, presumably guarding the relay device. Like the other targets, this one held a large rifle in his hands.

 

Shaw stepped out into the hall and shot him in the head, jogging towards the door itself. Upon reaching it, she slammed her boot under the knob, causing the wooden door to splinter and fly open. Keeping her gun forward, Shaw stepped in and swept the room left to right, noticing that it was empty save for a desk holding what looked like a network router. She approached the table, returning her gun to the holster on her hip.

 

“Found the relay. Let me plug you in,” she drew a small USB drive from her pocket and inserted it.

 

“ _Interfacing now... we may be able to use this to triangulate his location._ ”

 

“This better work,” Shaw sighed.

 

“ _While you were breaching the building, the FBI uncovered the data regarding Lauren Wood. They sent a team to bring her back to th—_ ”

 

Shaw's earpiece suddenly went dead as the Machine seemed to be cut off. “What's the matter?”

 

The Machine paused before revealing the cause behind Her sudden loss of words:

 

“ _Root's test results are in._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DMG REPORT  
> SHAW  
> INJURED 2  
> KILLED 4


	8. Alleviation... or Maybe Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root shares the results with Shaw. And some other stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

 

Root stood motionless for several minutes simply staring at the white envelope in her hands. After the doctor had delivered it, Root sneaked away to a nearby stairwell for some privacy, thankful that it had been blocked for the duration of the quarantine. She sat on the carpeted blue steps, took a deep breath, and opened the envelope.

 

Naturally, the paper had been filled with medical terms and details of the actual test itself, in addition to the final results. Root's trembling hands and racing mind made it momentarily difficult to find, but once she saw it, she felt like the whole world stopped. The words on the page slowly became blurred as she stared forward, her unblinking eyes losing focus. She had been unintentionally holding her breath, only releasing it when Shaw's voice in her ear startled her from the paralyzed state she found herself in.

 

“ _Root?_ ” She asked, sounding slightly out of breath. “ _What's the news?_ ”

 

Tears welled in the hacker's eyes and, with a few tumbling down her cheek. “I'm... okay.” Glancing down at the paper again, she ran a thumb over the only word that mattered: _negative._

 

“ _You're okay?_ ” Root heard the sound of a car door opening, then closing. “ _You mean...?_ ”

 

“I'm immune,” she smiled, feeling more tears escape. “I'm not infected.”

 

She heard Shaw let out a sigh of relief, sounding like she was releasing a breath that was held in since Root had been in contact with the virus. “ _Eight percent my_ ass _. I'm coming to get you out of there._ ”

 

Root noticed something at the bottom of her results sheet: apparently the Centers for Disease Control wanted to bring her in to have some additional tests done and keep her under watch for a short period of time. As much as she wanted to be whisked from this awful hotel, this seemed like an important thing she had to do. Maybe a vaccine could be developed from her blood? Before sharing this with Shaw, she heard what sounded an awful lot like an explosion on the line.

 

“Shaw? What was—”

 

“ _Nothing,_ ” her nonchalant response made Root's heart flutter. She could finally see the light at the end of this nightmare.

 

“The CDC wants me at their main lab for some follow up tests.”

 

“ _Okay, I'll meet you there, then._ ”

 

Ever the protector... Root shook her head. “You're needed out there.”

 

Reluctantly, Shaw agreed. The hacker had been informed of the stand-down order issued by the FBI director, but surely it would be lifted once Root returned. Then, after a moment: “ _Hey, Root?_ ”

 

“Yes?”

 

Root waited for the words to come, but Shaw said nothing.

 

“Don't worry, Sameen. We're still here.”

 

“ _Yeah..._ ” a pause. “ _I should go. Call me when you get to the lab._ ”

 

Root waited a beat. “Sameen?”

 

“ _Yeah?_ ”

 

“I love you so much.”

 

“ _I know._ ”

 

Of course, Root _knew_ that she knew. The words never held much impact before since their relationship ran deeper than that, but after the last few hours it felt nice to say. Root gathered her composure, and prepared to exit the hotel via the decontamination zone, looking forward to the fresh air outside the Greenwich.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Though she would have rather reunite with her lover, Shaw instead returned to the FBI building with the intention of being put back in the game. Since Root was no longer in serious jeopardy, she could be more focused on finding the rest of the vials. Not that she had been unfocused before.

 

Now that they had Wood's daughter, as well three more target cities, Shaw suspected the remainder of their mission would be somewhat easier. But she would never be so presumptuous to assume it would run _smoothly_. Shaw approached the directors office, rapping her knuckles against the glass door. She saw Alex Hunter wave her in, though she was on a phone call with another agent.

 

“What do you mean it _blew up_?” Shaw heard her say as she entered the office and waited.

 

“ _There was an explosion in the building before we arrived,_ ” the agent on the phone replied. “ _I don't know what to tell you._ ”

 

Director Hunter sighed. “Just get back here,” she lifted the receiver and placed it back down, ending the call. “We discovered a network relay that Oscar Wood used to route his cellphone signal. I sent a team in to investigate but apparently the building blew up before they could enter.”

 

“Super weird.”

 

“Yeah, it is. We'll have to rely on Lauren now,” Hunter crossed her arms.

 

“ _I told you not to blow it up..._ ” The Machine scolded in her ear.

 

Hunter informed Shaw of the data that Root had uncovered regarding the other targets, and the bureau was working with local law enforcement and counter terrorist teams in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Washington to try to narrow it down further. In addition, Lauren Wood was brought to one of the holding rooms with the hopes she would know where her father might be. From what Shaw gathered, the daughter knew nothing of his actions or crimes, perhaps they should be showing her photographs of the victims to help convince her of his guilt.

 

The only other news was that one of the hotel guests had apparently left the building prior to it being completely sealed. Field teams were currently working to bring him to quarantine, as well as anyone else he may have come into contact with. If he had been infected, he was scheduled to become contagious soon, hopefully by then the situation would be contained. Hunter recommended Shaw wait in her office until the field team returned, at that point she could join them, and the CDC teams to help locate the escapee.

 

Stepping from the director's office, Shaw crossed the main floor of the bureau heading for the stairs leading to the second floor. Her cellphone vibrated in her pocket so she fished the device out, swiping right to answer.

 

“Rayner.”

 

“ _This is Dr Simone Mackenzie from the CDC,_ ” the doctor whom Root worked with earlier today, she recalled. “ _I was wondering if Elizabeth was with you?_ ”

 

Elizabeth? Oh, right. Root. “No. Isn't she there at the lab?” Shaw jogged up the stairs, pushing open the glass door to her office, letting it fall shut. Her phone beeped indicating another call was coming through. Shaw glanced at the screen, but returned the phone to her ear upon seeing it read UNKNOWN NAME.

 

“ _The other three people who tested negative for the virus arrived over thirty minutes ago_ ,” she'd said. “ _We tried calling her, but there was no answer. I thought maybe she came to see you first?_ ”

 

Root had likely just stopped off at the house to shower, or collect her computer, or... something. There was nothing to worry about, surely. Her phone beeped again, but this time when she checked the display it read: ANSWER ME, SAMEEN. NOW. She rolled her eyes, taking a seat at her desk.

 

“Look, Dr Mackenzie, I gotta go. Let me know if she checks in with you.” Shaw ended the call, switching to the one coming in from the Machine. “What?”

 

“ _If I'm calling you, Shaw, it's for a reason._ ” She had taken on a very low tone in Root's voice, one that Shaw wasn't sure she'd ever heard from the woman herself. “ _I lost Root's signal._ ”

 

“What are you going on about?” She couldn't help the dread that made it's way into her body.  Like a small stone was dropped into the pit of her stomach.

 

“ _I watched as she entered a vehicle behind the Greenwich hotel, one that I assumed would take her to the CDC. The van drove into a camera dead-zone, and her cochlear implant stopped transmitting shortly after._ ”

 

Shaw's phone beeped, and once again another unknown was calling. “Maybe this is her now. I'll put it on speaker,” she swiped the green button and placed the phone down beside the laptop. “Hello?”

 

“ _Hello Shaw,_ ” surprisingly, Oscar Wood's voice filled the room. “ _I wanted to call and commend you on finding and destroying my network relay._ ”

 

Shaw pointed to the webcam on Root's computer, then down to the phone, hoping that the Machine was tracing the call. “Oh, I'm just getting started.”

 

“ _It seems a lot has changed since we worked together. For example, I never thought you would be the type to settle down,_ ” Shaw clenched her jaw. “ _Imagine my surprise when I learned you had done just that. With a beautiful_ woman _, no less._ ”

 

“Do you want something, or you just calling to catch up?” He breathed out a laugh, while Shaw's anger rose to near boiling. Considering the Machine lost Root's signal, and the convenient time of this call, it wasn't difficult to figure out what was happening. Talk about amateur hour.

 

“ _I have your wife._ ”

 

“I'm shocked,” she deadpanned. “Truly.”

 

“ _You may want to curb your attitude if you wish to see her again unharmed,_ ” he was careful not to raise his voice, but Shaw knew her reaction had irritated him, if only a little. “ _Why don't I make this simple for you? Free my daughter from FBI custody, or I will kill her._ ”

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

As soon as Root entered the van that was to transport her to the CDC lab, she was immediately struck on the left temple. Falling hard against the metal floor, her vision swam before she lost consciousness. When she awoke, Root was being dragged across a concrete floor, the sound of her favorite (and expensive) leather boots scrapping the ground, echoing loudly. She opened her eyes, but was met with only darkness. What's more, she couldn't speak on account of what she assumed was tape across her lips.

 

Eventually, they roughed her down into a chair and pulled the cover from her head. Having been in his position many times before, Root had the foresight to shut her eyes _before_ the bag came off, that way her eyes would be protected from the harsh change in light. She felt a sharp burning sensation on her hairline, a wound from when she was knocked out, she figured.

 

When she did open her eyes, the hacker scanned the room: dirty walls that were once white surrounded her on all sides, glass from what used to be a window littered the ground. The window itself seemed to be hastily covered with wooden boards, and the only door was directly in front of her.

 

Two men were in the room with her; one standing by the door holding a rifle, the other was behind the chair she sat in, having a very firm grip on her shoulder. Apparently they were too stupid to have her restrained. The sentry at the door stepped forward and used his phone to take a photo of her. He then opened the door, and in walked none other than Oscar Wood, who looked to be finishing a conversation on a satellite phone. The guard disappeared down the hallway.

 

“I'll call again in one hour to ensure that her release is underway,” he ended the call without waiting for a response. Root could safely assume that the only reason he hadn't killed her yet is because she was the leverage he had on Shaw. Well, he was about to learn a hard lesson about her little firecracker.

 

She had been wondering why the Machine had remained silent in her ear, but taking in the sat phone, and the concrete walls, perhaps She _couldn't_ speak to her. The guard returned, presumably after sending the photograph to Shaw, and ripped the tape from her mouth, and Root breathed out a laugh.

 

“Something funny, darling?” Wood had asked.

 

“No, nothing,” Root said, running her tongue across her teeth. “This is very predictable, is all.  Not an ounce of creativity on your part.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Kidnapping me for leverage against Sameen?” She made a tsk sound. “Amateur stuff, Mr Wood.  She's definitely going to kill you now,”  Root paused, tilting her head.  “Well, _one_ of us will.”

 

Oscar took a few steps towards her, and knelt down in front of the chair, caressing her chin with the tips of his fingers. Root didn't flinch, her eyes remained locked onto his. “You should know that I am not afraid of Shaw.”

 

Root smiled, baring her teeth, and she looked to him with all the venom she could muster. “She's not the one you should be scared of. I am.”

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

“Tell me you have a location on this prick,” Shaw sighed once Wood had hung up.

 

“ _The trace was unsuccessful.  I can't seem to locate her cochlear implant, either._ ”

 

“And the photo?” She gestured to her phone, still on the desk.

 

“ _It's definitely real._ ”

 

Shaw stood from the desk and paced from one end of the room to the other. “He doesn't know who he's dealing with. We need to use Lauren.”

 

“ _To what end?_ ”

 

She brought her fist down into her own palm. “We threaten to kill her.”

 

“ _And if he calls your bluff and kills Root anyway?_ ”

 

“Then _I'll_ kill his daughter.”

 

The Machine sighed, exasperated. “ _Really? And what does that accomplish?_ ” Shaw raised her finger and opened her mouth to counter, but nothing came. “ _Exactly. We need to play by his rules—_ ”

 

“But—”

 

“ _For_ now _, Sameen,_ ” the Machine put on her best flirty-Root voice. “ _Trust me_.”

 

“Every time one of you says that, it's never a good sign,” Shaw rolled her eyes. “Tell me the plan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Root can't catch a break! Just a quick breather before we move into the final act. Tune in next time to see her get back in the action. Thanks for reading!


	9. Movin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw wastes no time getting Root back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots happening here!
> 
> Check out the end notes where I try and explain my continued inability to tell time.

 

 

 

The Machine had suggested that Shaw play along with the demands of Oscar Wood, and orchestrate the escape of Lauren Wood from the FBI building. Assuming he wanted to exchange his daughter for Root, Shaw could use the opportunity to apprehend him and learn the targets for the remaining _Sol_ vials. Time was running out, and Shaw would prefer not to have a photo-finish on this awful day. As she walked to the holding room that Lauren was waiting, the Machine advised her that she was mobilizing various assets in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Washington. That way they would be ready to move as soon as a probable target was discovered.

 

Shaw used her FBI identification card to swipe into the interrogation room. A security guard was sitting at the console in front of a large two-way mirror, and several different angles on the subject were visible from the computer screens.

 

Shaw gestured towards the girl. “I need to talk to her.”

 

The large, dark-skinned security officer regarded her, then typed some commands on the computer. He was even slower at the keys than Shaw was. “You aren't scheduled to be questioning her.”

 

Her boot began tapping the ground. “Check again.”

 

She watched as his screen flickered briefly, then he typed once again. “Huh, there you are. Agent Rayner. Go on ahead.”

 

After the guard left the room, Shaw entered the interrogation proper, seeing a petite and frightened dark haired girl sitting at the metal table. She would have sympathy if her father wasn't completely insane and threatening to kill Root... plus millions of other people. She stood with her arms crossed in front of the girl.

 

“I already told the other agents, I don't know where my father is. Why am I being treated like a criminal?” She tried to appear tough, but Shaw easily recognized fear.

 

“Because your _father_ is a criminal. And you're going to help me find him.”

 

“How?”

 

Shaw shrugged. “He's holding my wife hostage in the hopes that I'll break you out of here,” Lauren visibly flinched at the idea. Too bad for her because this was happening. The cellphone in Shaw's pocket vibrated, indicating her time must have already been up. She swiped to answer, and held it up to her ear, walking back towards the mirror. “What?”

 

“ _Have you secured my daughter?_ ”

 

Shaw turned her head, looking briefly at the young woman. “I'm with her right now.”

 

“ _Now why don't I believe you?_ ” He paused. “ _Let me talk to her._ ”

 

Shaking her head, Shaw kept her voice quiet. “Not happening. Let me talk to my wife or I'll kill her right now.”

 

“ _You wouldn't._ ”

 

“Try me,” her voice practically a growl.

 

There was a pause on the line, followed by some shuffling, as well as what sounded like a door being opened. Oscar spoke in hushed tones, before a new voice came on the line.

 

“ _Hey sweetie,_ ” as always, her voice filled Shaw with a lightness she really couldn't explain.  “ _I can't say much._ ” 

 

“I'm coming for you.”

 

“ _Don't let them manipulate you, Shaw. I can handle—_ ” More scuffling sounds followed and Oscar's voice returned on the line. Shaw clenched her fists.

 

“ _Now, my daughter?_ ”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes and placed her phone down on the metal table, pressing the button for speakerphone. He tried to convince her that he was not the enemy and it was, in fact, the United States government to blame. Lauren, in turn, asked about the terrible things the FBI was saying about him, which he denied. Nothing unexpected was said, and certainly nothing that would help locate him. Having quite enough, Shaw scooped the phone back up and disabled the speaker.

 

“ _Take her to the corner of East 57_ _th_ _and Lexington Avenue. There is a payphone which will ring in one hour. You will receive further instructions then._ ”

 

The line disconnected, and Shaw returned the device to her pocket. She regarded Lauren. “What now?” The girl said.

 

“We're leaving.”

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

When her brief contact with Shaw had ended, Root resumed plotting of ways to escape. Fortunately, they continued to leave her unattended and unbound in this small room while a singular guard lurked outside. Wherever they were, it was becoming unbearably warm. She paced around the room, hearing glass crunch under her feet, when she was struck with an idea.

 

“Glass...” the hacker bend down and picked up a shard with a pointed edge.

 

The men who brought her here must have known she had been in contact with the virus but may _not_ know that she is immune to the infection. That would be her ticket out, she decided. She shed her leather jacket and rolled both sleeves up, holding the shard to her left palm. She pierced her skin with the glass, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed it deep enough to draw a fair amount of blood. Root withdrew the glass slowly, and discarded the shard on the floor. Satisfied, she brought her palm to her face and rubbed the wound under her nose, streaking all the way down to her chin, giving the appearance of a nosebleed.

 

Sufficiently “symptomatic”, Root crouched against the wall with her back towards the door, but still in a position where she could be easily seen, should the guard choose to enter. She took a deep breath and let out a gut wrenching scream, the sound echoing loudly in the small space. She yelled again and again, before beginning her best faux-sob into her own hands.

 

“Jesus Christ, shut up in there,” Root heard the guard say, but she continued with her cries. He pounded on the door, and when she didn't stop he opened it to step inside.

 

Finally, she turned her head towards the him, watching as the blood seemed to drain from his face. “Please help me. I'm infected...” she sobbed, rising from the ground,

 

“Oh, shit... oh shit!” He backed away from her, Root matched his pace and crept towards him.

 

Terrified of contracting the virus, he pushed the door shut with lackluster effort, turning to draw the radio from his belt. Root was now close enough that she was able to stop the door with her foot, and push it back open. The man made the mistake of turning his back to her as he spoke into the radio. “I need help over here. It's the prisoner, she's—”

 

He wouldn't get the chance to finish, as Root seized the opportunity and struck the back of his head with her clasped fists.

 

He crumbled to the ground, and the radio slid across the concrete floor. Root wasted no time in rolling the guard onto his back and relieving him of his weapon, an MP5K. She preferred the model with the stock for extra stability, but wasn't about to be picky given her predicament. The hacker took three steps towards freedom, then stopped upon hearing a response in the radio. A man's voice buzzed through the device. “ _Jones do you copy? Status on the prisoner?_ ”

 

Now, she _should_ have left it and made her way to the exit, but Root was still a little annoyed that they kidnapped her after being let out of the Greenwich. And given everything that happened, or almost happened, she decided to try Shaw's therapy of choice: shooting people.

 

She picked up the small black radio, holding it to her mouth as she pressed down the red button. “Armed and dangerous. Come and get me,” she dropped it on the ground and raised her weapon, walking quickly down the hall.

 

It was difficult to ascertain where she might be, the halls were somewhat narrow and dark, with water dripping from the ceiling. Light bulbs dangled, illuminating only patches of the area at any given time. Attached were rooms that housed a variety of maintenance equipment, cleaning supplies, and... bags of soil? She also noticed large gardening tools in one of the smaller rooms as she kept moving. Hearing footsteps at the end of the hallway kept her from lingering and Root backtracked in order to hide in one of the larger ones, which appeared to be some kind of locker area. Grungy white tile lined the walls, and there was a section blocking off the showers for privacy, clearly not used in years. She pressed her body against the wall next to the doorway and waited as the steps grew louder and louder.

 

“Check these,” a voice said, and moments later the barrel of a gun was slowly entering the room. Once the man's face was visible, Root slammed the butt of her SMG into him, aiming for the apple of his cheek. The weapon flew from his hands as he flailed to the side and tumbled to the ground, making more noise than she would have liked, alerting the other men nearby.

 

Root quickly ducked into the shower area and knelt down against the wall blocking her from view. As soon as she heard the footsteps, the hacker leaned out and fired a burst into the man's knees. Well, she _aimed_ for the knees at least. Obviously more used to have a pistol or two, Root was thrown off by the recoil on this gun, made more intense without the stock. The guard ended up peppered with bullets in his knees and thighs. The wound on her hand burned after coming in contact with the metal of the gun.

 

Either way, he was incapacitated as well, and Root made sure to kick both weapons out of their reach before proceeding out of the room. Root was surprised when something had slammed into her as soon as she entered the hall, the force and speed of the blow knocked her on her right side. Pain erupted from her elbow as she hit hard against the concrete, but she managed to twist her body towards the attacker and raise her gun. Root shot him in the chest three times, keeping her gun raised as he crumpled to the ground.

 

She took a moment to catch her breath before standing up and proceeding down the hall to the junction at the end. The hacker stopped and used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the blood from her face before slowly peering out to check for more enemies. To the left was another hall that seemed to go on forever, the right was similar, but the hall included a barely lit set of stairs. She swiftly moved from cover towards the stairs, hoping they would lead up to where she could contact the Machine.

 

She heard the thundering of footsteps coming from the stairs, and with no cover available, she knelt against the wall and held her weapon at the ready. When the first target was visible, Root fired short bursts into his knees before adjusting her sights to the next person. He fired uselessly with his handgun, perhaps not seeing her in the poorly lit hall, and she easily disposed of him by shooting into his legs. Both men had toppled down the stairs and lay mostly motionless on the concrete floor, their weapons well out of reach. Either Oscar skimped on the henchmen, or he really wasn't expecting Root to be an issue. Regardless, she was happy to prove him wrong.

 

She approached the men, immediately feeling fresh air from outside, and swapped out her SMG for one of theirs. Root gazed up the stone steps, saw the clear sky, then looked back down at the men, groaning and holding their limbs.

 

“Where's your boss?” She'd asked the one guard who was still conscious.

 

“Fuck you!”

 

She gave him a mock once-over.  “Sorry, not my type,” she said brightly before kicking her foot across his face.  “Well boys, it's been a slice,” she touched two fingertips to her temple and saluted the unconscious men. “But I really should get going.”

 

 

 

 

|

 

 

 

 

In order to assist Shaw in leaving the FBI building with Lauren Wood in tow, the Machine put all security cameras on loop, and created an issue with the overhead lighting throughout the entire building. This allowed Her asset to use the cover of darkness to slip away undetected. The Machine tracked Shaw's mustang as she drove towards the location provided by Oscar, having already located the payphone in question. She listened as Lauren tried to combat the silence with her words.

 

“So... you pretty much kidnapped me,” she had said. Through the dashboard camera, She watched as Shaw kept her eyes forward, occasionally glancing into the rear view mirror, but never to her passenger. Elevated heart-rate, as well as the visible agitation indicated that Lauren was experiencing fear, and anxiety. “Are you going to exchange me for your wife?”

 

“Yes,” Her primary asset said.

 

Lauren fidgeted in her seat. “All the stuff you guys said about my Dad... the people he hurt. What if he just kills her anyway? And... me?”

 

The Machine could see Shaw's jaw clench, her head briefly turned to check her side mirror before changing lanes. “Cross that bridge when it comes,” She was surprised at the deflection. Should Oscar indeed kill Root, the chances of Shaw killing Lauren were 50.4%, while the chances of her killing Oscar himself were 99.8%.

 

As they reached the destination, Shaw ordered Lauren to stay inside the vehicle while she exited and approached the payphone. The Machine saw no additional threats in the area, though Sameen conducted her own sweep. Before she returned to the phone, the Machine suddenly detected Root's cochlear implant, watching as she appeared at the top of a stairwell brandishing a large sub-machine gun, model: Heckler & Koch MP5K-PDW.

 

“Can you hear me?” The analog interface said.

 

“ _Yes,_ ” the Machine responded, immediately switching to Shaw's communication channel. “ _I've got Root._ ”

 

Shaw straightened, glancing up at the security camera. “Where?”

 

“ _Her cochlear implant is transmitting from the New York Botanical Garden,_ ” She could see the interface weaving through a garden maze, heading towards an exit. The entire eastern section of the gardens have reportedly been closed for some time, undergoing severe restructuring and maintenance. “ _Patching you through._ ”

 

“Root?”

 

“Sameen?” Root replied, somewhat breathless. “I escaped from Wood's incompetent men, but I'm not sure where he's keeping me.”

 

“You're at the Botanical Garden. We're tracking you now, I'm on my way,” Shaw turned on her heel back towards the car, but the Machine had something else in mind.

 

“ _Wait,_ ” The Machine said.

 

“Why?” Shaw put her hands on her hips.

 

In the three seconds before Her asset's question, the Machine had run hundreds of simulations in order to determine this course of action. “ _Root, I recommend you allow yourself to be reacquired by Oscar Wood's men._ ”

 

A pause, presumably as both women processed her words. “You want me to go back?” Root asked. She could see that Her interface had reached a gate to freedom, but remained within the maze.

 

“Fuck. That,” Shaw added helpfully.

 

“ _Here me out—_ ”

 

“No.”

 

“ _In order to apprehend Oscar Wood and stop the virus threat, the exchange has to take place. Without Root to trade, he has no reason to come out into the open._ ”

 

“No,” Shaw repeated.

 

“ _Sameen, listen to me. Wood knows that you have his daughter, and he knows what you are capable of. He is not going to hurt Root because he_ needs _her in order to get Lauren back,_ ” Shaw crossed her arms, and paced in a small square beside her vehicle. “ _Make a decision quickly, he'll be contacting you soon with a location._ ”

 

“This is stupid.”

 

“But She's right, sweetie,” Root said, as she slowly walked back into the maze, discarding her weapon in the grass. The Machine watched as Root now jogged into an open area within the gardens. A large fountain was at the center, not currently in operation, and three men exited the main building.

 

“ _Time to intercept: 30 seconds,_ ” She said to Root. The Machine could understand Shaw's apprehension, but knew Her asset would make the right choice, for the sake of the greater good.

 

“If this goes pear-shaped, I'm killing you both.”

 

“ _Noted,_ ” The Machine and Root said in unison. Shaw approached the payphone, and stood staring at the black receiver with her arms tightly crossed.

 

Elsewhere, Oscar and two of his men had encountered Root again, who stood with her hands lazily in the air. They appeared to share a few words before one of the men approached her with caution and bound her hands together with a zip tie. The other circled behind, nudging her forward with the butt of his weapon. The Machine lost the signal as they stepped back into the building.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

After the Machine confirmed that Root had been recaptured by Oscar Wood's men, Shaw had nothing to do but wait patiently for his call to come to the payphone in front of her. She didn't like the idea of Root willingly going into the hands of the enemy, but was confident that the Machine had considered all outcomes and decided that the endgame outweighed the risks. The high-pitched ringing of the phone startled her somewhat distracted mind and she immediately pulled the receiver off, placing it against her ear.

 

“ _Hello agent Shaw,_ ” Oscar's voice had a slight hint of frustration, Shaw noticed. “ _I trust my daughter is well?_ ”

 

“For now,” she looked over her shoulder at her car.

 

“ _You had better ensure she stays that way. Take her to the 207_ _th_ _Street Train Yard in the one hour. Your wife will be there as well, and we can make the exchange._ ”

 

A thought struck her: why was she letting him have control of the entire situation? She would obviously continue to go along with the exchange _to a point_ , she realized, but she had just about enough of him acting like he's in charge.

 

“Yeah, I don't think so,” she replied in a level tone.

 

“ _Pardon me?_ ”

 

“The train yard? Doesn't work for me.”

 

He paused, probably aghast at her words. Loser. “ _You seem to forget that I have—_ ”

 

“And _you_ seem to forget that, unlike my wife, your daughter is completely defenseless. Pick a new spot, or she's dead,” without waiting for a response, Shaw slammed the receiver back down.

 

The inevitable scolding from the Machine came soon after. “ _Was that wise... ?_ ”

 

“If he's forced to choose another location, it reduces the chances of us walking into a total ambush... maybe.”

 

Shaw expected another reprimand, but none came. Instead all she heard was a soft “hm” from her robotic friend on the other line. Just as she hoped, the payphone rang once again, and again she lifted it to her ear.

 

“ _The parking lot under the Macombs Dam Bridge. Eastern side. One hour,_ ” he paused, then spoke again using a more threatening tone. “ _Do not be late._ ”

 

She hung up the phone again without responding, looking back up at the street camera.

 

“Well, how about that.”

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

As required, Shaw drove Lauren Wood to the Macombs Dam Bridge, having to endure more unnecessary conversation from the young lady on the way. She expressed concerns regarding her own safety once she was returned to her father, saying that she feared for her life while in his company. Shaw thought Lauren had been on his side, but apparently changed her tune after being shown photographs, and video footage of all the people dying at the Greenwich Hotel. After the virus threat was contained, they would need to have her protected in order to prevent her number from coming up in the future. The Machine had paired with her phone in order to track her, and Shaw replaced the battery in Lauren's watch with a tracker of her own.

 

She parked her car in one of the spaces that would allow her full visual of the bridge, as well as the space beneath it. Snipers could easily hide up high, but given the short notice on the drop site, there was a good chance no one was watching. Well, no one _else_. The Machine had visual coverage from a single camera that pointed directly under the bridge itself. Two large brick pillars held it in place, and the area was fairly open, giving Shaw good visuals as well. She and Lauren both exited the vehicle and stood waiting for Wood to arrive, patiently leaning against the passenger side of the car. The sun would rise in soon, and Shaw was already feeling the heat from what would be an unreasonably warm day. She adjusted her Kevlar vest, which certainly did not help with her temperature. Next to her, Lauren shivered, likely due to fear rather than temperature, while Shaw kept her eyes forward.

 

The two vehicles approached, SUVs, it seemed, and they parked in a V shape on either side of the brick pillar. Tinted windows made it impossible to see within, however the Machine confirmed that she was getting a signal from Root's implant inside. The passenger and driver side doors on both vehicles opened, and men stood at the ready, no doubt well armed. So far she counted four men.  On the left, the back door opened as well, and Root stepped out, along with another one of Wood's henchmen, making five visible targets. The sight of Root almost made Shaw's breath hitch, it felt like an eternity since she laid eyes upon her lover. Nevertheless, she felt her chest tighten when their eyes finally met. Their connection didn't last, as the man with her appeared to share some words before shoving her forward. Shaw looked to Lauren.

 

“Time to go.”

 

The young woman steeled herself and began taking steps forward and Root followed suit several meters ahead. Shaw scanned the hacker's appearance as best she could from the distance: her jacket was missing in action, gait seemed to be normal, though she held her left hand oddly, and some of her hair looked to be crusted with blood. The process was slow, slower than Shaw would have liked especially since she didn't trust Wood's men not to shoot them afterwards. Eventually the two women passed one another, but Lauren's pace slowed.

 

“Keep moving!” One of the men shouted. Root paused and half turned to look at the young woman, but continued forward.

 

She was close enough now that Shaw couldn't wait any longer, she closed the last few steps herself and reached for Root, taking her arm and leading her back to the car.

 

“You okay?” Shaw asked in a hushed tone, to which Root simply nodded. Both women could see that Lauren had completely stopped, and now Oscar appeared from one of the vehicles to try and encourage her forward.

 

“It's okay, darling!” He called to her, but Shaw could see her shaking her head. Damn it.

 

“I can't do it! I don't want to go with him!” She cried, turning to run back towards their car. The other men drew their weapons, and Shaw followed suit, firing first.

 

Root helped guide Lauren behind the vehicle for cover, while Shaw remained standing and continued shooting. Two men had already fallen, clutching their knees, and she began to walk around the mustang herself, being in desperate need of some cover. As she began to round the front end, she was struck in the chest by two bullets, the impact of which knocked her onto her back. Shaw stared up up at the sky trying to blink away the black spots in her vision and gasp for breath. Still, tried to continue to return fire. She felt herself being pulled backwards by her shoulder straps as bullets peppered the ground _and_ her car. Her poor, beautiful car...

 

Root finally dragged her to relative safety, and immediately slid her hands under the Kevlar vest. “Really?” Shaw said breathlessly. “You're groping me _now_?”

 

“I will properly grope you later, I promise,” Shaw laughed aloud at that. Root was so ridiculous. “I'm making sure nothing got through.”

 

Satisfied that the vest had done it's job, Root relieved Shaw of her USP Compact and stood from behind their cover, shooting.

 

“ _Shaw,_ ” the Machine said in her ear. “ _Oscar is running North._ ”

 

“Like hell he is,” she groaned, raising herself to a kneel before retrieving the Nano from her ankle holster. “Cover me,” she said unnecessary and sprinted from behind the car.

 

There were hardly any obstructions under the bridge, and she could see him running in the distance with practically no where to go. Root continued to fire on the men until the final three were taken down, and Shaw had run passed their SUVs in pursuit of Wood.

 

Eventually she saw another vehicle approach and stop just short of where her mark was, obviously the alternate escape plan. Shaw was through being on the defensive, and Oscar had seriously got on her nerves today. She stopped running and raised her Nano, firing one bullet in each of his knees, and two into the chest of his driver, causing the car to continue forward and crash into the concrete barrier. Oscar lay writhing while Shaw jogged to meet him, gun still in hand. As she approached he drew his own weapon from his coat pocket, which she immediately kicked away.

 

“Nice to finally see you again,” she said breathlessly. Strands of her hair had come loose from it's ponytail, and clung to her face with the help of some perspiration. “You're under arrest, you piece of shit.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, here's why it's now almost daytime in this chapter: Earlier there is a very small mention of someone who left the hotel before it could be 100% sealed. There was a long (and boring) sequence where Shaw joined the FBI as they tracked him down and quarantined anyone he came into contact with. It started with a woman in the hotel telling Root that the man she came with had left, Root would do some investigation to learn his name, then Shaw would take over and find out where he lived and so on. This ate up a large chunk of time in the period after Root gets her test results but _before_ she left the hotel. Why advance the time at all? Well, it being morning is important later when they find another vial of the virus in a [spoiler]. Hope it's not too jarring.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> DMG REPORT  
> SHAW  
> INJURED 3  
> KILLED 1
> 
> ROOT  
> INJURED 8  
> KILLED 1


	10. Back on Track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Using the power of persuasion, Shaw and Root learn the locations of the remaining vials, one of which remains in New York City.

 

 

It wasn't long before the authorities arrived under the Macombs Dam Bridge, having been summoned by the Machine following the apprehension of Oscar Wood. Root, along with Lauren, joined Shaw where she had the man at gunpoint until members of the FBI could properly detain him. Several vehicles arrived on scene, including a tactical van, and medical personnel. They beckoned Lauren to be physically examined, followed by Root herself.

 

The hacker watched as director Alexandria Hunter exited one of the federal vehicles, marching towards Shaw after ordering that Oscar be cuffed, and seen by the medics as well.

 

“You're _unbelievable!_ ” Root heard the other woman say. Considering the lack of back-up on this little exchange mission, one could assume it was not sanctioned by the dear director.

 

Awaiting her turn to be seen, Root discretely touched behind her ear. “You there?”

 

“ _Always_ ,” came the Machine's response.

 

“Could you make sure that Shaw's car is taken care of?” The hacker glanced to where the mustang lay in the parking lot riddled with bullets.

 

“ _A tow-truck is on the way,_ ” She said. “ _Perhaps I can arrange for some additional detailing once the repairs are completed._ ”

 

Root pursed her lips and nodded to herself. “I think Shaw would like that,” speaking of, Root looked over to where the other woman was still in a heated discussion with director Hunter.

 

“ _The director is scolding Sameen for taking Lauren out of FBI custody without authorization._ ”

 

“I figured.”

 

“ _Sameen responded by saying that—oh._ ”

 

“What?”

 

The Machine paused. “ _Sometimes I forget how colorful Shaw's vocabulary can be._ ”

 

Root chuckled, seeing the medic wave her forward while other agents now spoke with Lauren. Meanwhile Oscar's legs had been bandaged, and several FBI agents had him under watch. Root sat inside the mobile medical van while the EMT prepared to examine her. However, he barely finished washing up before Shaw barged in.

 

“Beat it, four-eyes,” she said.

 

He looked at her with a mixture of fear and confusion. Shaw had that effect on people, Root found, and luckily the medic was smart enough not to argue. When he stepped out, the pair were alone for the first time in hours, and Shaw proceeded to take up his position. She rolled her dark sleeves up and began to wash her hands. She then helped herself to the medical supplies and stepped to where Root was seated. Pulling the rolling chair forward, Shaw sat in front of Root with their knees not quite touching. She ripped open a small disinfecting pad took Root's chin in her fingers, turning her head to the right.

 

Shaw dabbed the pad over the small wound on Root's hairline, causing a burning sensation. Root squeezed her eyes shut, but it wasn't long before Shaw was finished. She reached into the box of medical supplies and produced a bottle that vaguely reminded her of nail polish.

 

“It's minor,” Shaw said. “This is just a liquid bandage.” She brushed Root's hair back with her hand before painting the solution over the wound, applying liberally. “Now, the hand.”

 

Between her escape attempt, and the commotion during the exchange, Root hadn't realized quite how messy it had become; red stains had settled in the webs between her fingers, having raced down her palm itself, in addition to the dark blood also gathered at the wound site and wrist. Shaw held her with a firm grip, and dabbed her palm with the disinfectant, immediately causing her entire hand to sting. Root flinched, clenching her teeth against the pain.

 

Taking the hacker's reaction into consideration, Shaw began pressing more gently. “How did this happen? It's pretty deep.”

 

Root watched as Shaw now meticulously cleaned between her fingers, taking time to ensure that the dark band was spotless. As always, Shaw playing doctor was simply mesmerizing. “Glass. I made them think I was symptomatic to spook the men guarding me.”

 

For a moment, Shaw continued her work in silence, then: “That was a very stupid thing you did.”

 

Root shrugged. “It worked, didn't it?”

 

Shaw shook her head. “Not that.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Another beat of silence passed. “I can't figure it out,” Shaw said. “What was going through that head of yours when you walked inside the hotel?”

 

Having sufficiently cleaned her hand, Shaw laid a butterfly bandage across Root's palm, pressing firmly for adhesion. “I'm sorry.”

 

“I don't want an apology, Root. I want an explanation,” Shaw took a small roll of medical tape, wrapping it around Root's hand, laying it smooth across her skin. Her tone remained level as she worked. “I wont survive losing you again, you know that.”

 

“Believe me when I say that I was only thinking of you when I went inside.” Shaw scoffed at that, Root looked away. “I thought it's what you would have done... swept in and protected everyone.  Hundreds of people were in that hotel tonight, Sameen.  Innocent people.  All dead.”

 

After she finished applying the tape, she began tracing the inside of Root's hand with her fingertips, straying from the bandage to the exposed skin. Shaw had done this on many occasions, as Root recalled, and feeling the rough yet precise fingertips caress the lines in her skin was a source of great comfort. Root wondered if the same were true for Shaw. She gazed deeply into the brown eyes that rose to meet hers.

 

“Are you angry with me?”

 

There was a tightness present in Shaw's eyes for several seconds before it slowly faded, she shook her head.  “Damn it, Root, you can't keep doing this.” Root couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. Shaw brushed some of her hair aside with her free hand, letting it drop to the hacker's shoulder. “But... you're alive. I guess I can't be too pissed at that.”

 

If the situations had been reversed, and _Shaw_ had been the one to be infected, Root couldn't fathom what she might have done. Root admired Shaw's strength so very much, the fact that she was able to continue their mission to near completion while Root was trapped under quarantine was an incredible feat. The sound of boots walking on gravel outside stopped Root from leaning forward and kissing her. Perhaps it was a good thing, as she was close to being overwhelmed by her emotions. They still had a job to do yet.

 

There was a knock on the side of the van to draw their attention, though it was a beat before Shaw pulled her gaze from Root's, keeping the hackers hand in her own. One of the field agents had let them know that Oscar Wood was being transported back to the FBI for interrogation. Shaw shook her head.

 

“You wont break him in time to stop the virus.”

 

The agent shrugged. “Orders from Alex.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes and stood from her seated position, pulling Root up to follow. Together they exited the fan and strode towards director Hunter.

 

“Let me handle him,” Shaw said.

 

The director breathed out a laugh, incredulous. “After the crap you pulled today? I could charge you for treason.”

 

Shaw sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, I'm taking Oscar _and_ the daughter. Up to you how difficult it is,” Root watched with raised eyebrows as Shaw held her hand out for the keys. “I'll get you the vials within the hour.”

 

Hunter seemed conflicted: while Shaw had broken several protocols already, from ignoring the stand-down order to kidnapping a key person of interest, she _also_ succeeded in apprehending the man responsible for everything today. Reluctantly, she relinquished her keys.

 

“You have _thirty_ minutes. Then I'm bringing you back in.”

 

Shaw took the keys from her hand, and gestured to Root. The pair began walking to one of the FBI vehicles, while Lauren and Oscar were escorted to meet them.

 

“What's your plan?” Root asked.

 

Shaw glanced at the other woman, opening the driver's side door. “I'm going to play your favorite game with him,” confused, Root waited for her to elaborate. “Chicken.”

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Having Lauren next to her in the passenger seat, and Oscar with Root in the back seat, Shaw hastily drove to their destination after giving an explanation of the plan to her wife.

 

“You're wasting your time, ladies,” he'd said. Shaw glanced at him through the rear view mirror. “I will not give up the other locations.”

 

Shaw nodded. “So you've said.”

 

Lauren suddenly spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Innocent lives are at risk,” Root was the one to answer.

 

“Not you guys,” the girl said. “ _Him_. Dad, seriously... why?”

 

Oscar sighed, shifting in his seat. The handcuffs he wore restricted his movements, not to mention the gun Root had pointed at him. “Darling, this country is a disaster. Truly. There is no government more uncaring and corrupt than theirs, and the rest of the world needs to realize that.”

 

Shaw snorted, while Lauren spun in her seat to face her father. “How is killing millions of people the solution here? They showed me the projections on your disease, or whatever. It's fucked.”

 

“It's necessary, darling. And watch your language.”

 

“ _You're_ fucked,” Shaw chimed in.

 

“I am surprised at your attitude, Sameen,” Oscar said. “The government tried to kill you, yet here you are defending it.”

 

“I'm defending people, not the government. There's a difference.”

 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my dear.”

 

“I believe _I_ have the market covered on that,” Root said proudly. Shaw groaned to herself, rolling her eyes. Honestly.

 

Thankfully, they had arrived at their destination thus preventing the conversation from spiraling down an unpleasant (and personal) path. Shaw parked on the street outside the Greenwich Hotel and turned off the ignition. She exited the vehicle and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for Oscar. Taking his lapels in her fists, she hauled him from the car and tossed him unceremoniously onto the ground. From behind, she heard Root exit the vehicle as she pulled Oscar to his feet, guiding him up the stairs to the hotel entrance. He grunted, limping under his bandaged legs, but otherwise made no efforts to free himself. Once they arrived at the entrance, Shaw gestured to the members of SWAT still stationed outside the building, ordering two to hold Oscar while she stood in front of him.

 

“This is your last chance, Wood,” she began, narrowing her eyes. “We already know the cities, now tell me the targets.”

 

He only smirked in response, which she would be happy to wipe from his face momentarily. “You think seeing the destruction and death I've caused will change my mind? Or maybe you're going to infect me?” He laughed. “I am willing to die for this, Sameen. You'll have to do better than that.”

 

Shaw nodded. “Agreed,” she tapped her earpiece, keeping her voice low. “Bring me the girl.”

 

And just like that, Oscar's expression fell. He turned his head to see Root leading his daughter up the stairs. Soon they stood with Shaw.

 

“What are you doing?” Oscar said.

 

“Tell me where the couriers are or I'm putting her inside,” Shaw said. Her tone level.

 

“What?!” Lauren cried. Root maintained a tight grip on her.

 

“She has nothing to do with this, Shaw.”

 

“Neither do any of the people who died in that hotel today.” He began to tremble slightly, obviously torn between continuing his crusade to _make America pay_ , or saving his daughter. Evidently a small part of him thought she was bluffing, and he shook his head. Without taking her eyes from his face, Shaw said: “Send her in.”

 

Already clad in their protective gear, two more members of SWAT approached Lauren, taking her by the arms and pulling towards the hotel entrance. As part of the quarantine protocol, a small chamber was installed over the doors, for decontamination purposes. Lauren began screaming and fighting against the men with all her might. It was futile, and the guards opened the first set of doors, preparing to guide her into the infected zone.

 

“This is your fault, Wood.”

 

“Shaw!” Oscar yelled, beginning to struggle so hard that the officers forced him to his knees. “Stop this!”

 

“Not until you give me the locations,” Shaw bent down to look him in the eyes, his expression was wild with fear as he continued to shout for his daughter. Shaw slapped him in the face to get his attention back on her. “After she's been infected, I'm going to make you watch her die.”

 

His face was white as a ghost. Desperate, he now looked to Root still standing nearby, watching the exchange. “Get her out of there! _Please_!”

 

The hacker kept her eyes forward, no doubt recalling what she had been through at the hotel. She said nothing.  Shaw turned back towards the entrance, seeing that the first stage of the decontamination was complete. She estimated less than a minute before the door was breached, and she brought her gaze back to Wood. “She's out of time.”

 

Tears flowed freely down Oscar's face, his body slumped in defeat as he shouted. “All right! Sameen, I'll tell you! Please **stop**!”

 

Shaw snatched the radio from the shoulder clip of the SWAT men, pressing the red button down to speak. “Abort. Bring her back out.”

 

The two guards inside the tube turned and began walking back out, while the men holding Oscar loosened their grip, presumably because he was no longer a threat. He fully let himself fall to the ground, and Shaw tapped to earpiece twice to call the Machine.

 

“Tell the FBI we got 'em.”

 

 

 

|

 

 

 

Having observed Her asset successfully defeat Oscar Wood in a game of “chicken”, as Sameen had said, the Machine was now coordinating with the FBI in order to dispatch teams to the appropriate locations. Wood had provided GPS keys that corresponded with each of the four remaining detonators; one in Chicago, Los Angeles, Washington, and a second here in New York City. Along with local law enforcement, the Machine also sent teams led by Dani Silva, Jack Salazar, and Logan Pearce.

 

Since Her agents had been mobile for several hours, having already learned the target cities, it wasn't long before team Washington encountered the virus. She watched as Joey Durban successfully apprehended the courier on the rooftop of a building downtown and secured the detonator. However, the device had already been armed, so She contacted Her asset directly

 

“ _Let me have a look at it, Mr Durban,_ ” She said.

 

He fumbled in his pocket before producing his cellphone. Pointing the camera at the detonation device, the Machine found that it was a modified version of the one that Shaw had discovered earlier this evening: this had a larger body, as well as a cylindrical clamp attached to one side. This model must have had a different detonation sequence, and while there was still the row of buttons to activate, there was no red indicator like there had been before.

 

“ _Open the panel beside the row of red switches, please,_ ” She advised her asset. He complied, and contained within was a tangled mess of wires, including yellow, red, green, and blue ones. As well, two small digital timers that currently counted down from 4:54 and 5:54, respectively. Visible underneath the timer was what appeared to be an explosive device.

 

“Uh...” Joey stammered.

 

“ _Fascinating. Please stand by._ ”

 

The Machine was able to determine that the times counted down to the virus dispersal _and_ the detonation of the explosive. She concluded that the appropriate disarming sequence would begin with severing the yellow wire to prevent the explosion, before severing the blue wire to stop the virus detonation. By the time the shorter clock reached 4:16, She advised Her asset to make the first cut. The countdown stopped at 4:13, and he visibly sighed with relief. She let him savor the small victory before continuing with the sequence.

 

Elsewhere, while She continued to coordinate multiple assets at once, She returned to New York, where Her primary asset and analog interface were standing by waiting for more information on the local vial. Root had disappeared to a nearby street vendor to purchase a hot dog for Sameen, which she devoured with animal like fervor, while the interface enjoyed a large pretzel.

 

“ _The vial located in Washington, DC has been successfully disarmed. I've already updated the FBI._ ”

 

“And the rest?” Root asked.

 

“ _Proceeding well. There's something else,_ ” She paused. “ _The detonation device is different than the one that both of you encountered: these models contain an explosive element as well._ ”

 

Swallowing the last bite of her meal, Shaw rolled her eyes. “Of course they do.”

 

“ _Since the FBI is concentrating their efforts on securing the man who escaped from the hotel, as well as quarantining everyone he was in contact with,_ ” the Machine began, recalling the escapee from several hours ago. “ _Director Hunter will likely order you two to follow up the final lead._ ”

 

As She spoke, the Machine tracked the FBI director as she arrived on scene, and approached her assets. Just as she predicted, Hunter requested that they follow up on the last vial, remaking that they were the only option available. And, as far as the Machine was concerned, the best; Root has first hand experience with the virus and detonator and Shaw was, well, _Shaw_. In addition, several containment teams were mobile to provide assistance once the vial was secured.

 

The pair joined the director at a nearby tactical van, where they could help themselves to the mobile armory. Still sufficiently armed with her USP Compact, and Nano, Sameen stood by as Root selected her weapons. The Machine watched her primary asset retrieve the knife from her boot and pick the bullets from the Kevlar vest that she still wore. Sameen's tongue stuck out between her lips as she worked the fragments from her chest. It made her look like a child, She thought. Meanwhile Root chose to rearm herself with a Glock 19, as well as a Smith & Wesson M&P Shield as her secondary. Shaw furrowed her brows when the hacker was finished.

 

“No vest?” She asked, to which Root smirked.

 

“You can be my human shield, sweetie.”

 

“Great,” she deadpanned. “So where is this thing anyway?”

 

“ _GPS indicates that the courier is traveling Northbound on Varick Street,_ ” the Machine said. “ _I've appropriated a vehicle to help us catch up. Please head to the corner of Moore and Greenwich._ ”

 

Shaw and Root walked as directed to the edge of the street, keeping a brisk pace, when her interface spotted the car for them. She nudged Sameen with her elbow, drawing her attention to the black 1967 Chevrolet Camaro that awaited them. The Machine watched, amused by how her primary asset's mouth hung open at the sight. Smiling brightly, Root lifted her hand up, touching her fingertips lightly to her wife's chin to guide her jaw shut again.

 

“ _Do you think she likes it?_ ” The Machine asked Root. Meanwhile Shaw had essentially run to the car to peer into the windows before entering. Root smiled while opening the passenger side door.

 

“I think so.”

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Seated in the maroon leather seat of Shaw's new toy, Root listened as the Machine directed them to where the final courier carried the _Sol_ virus. It only took Shaw a minute to reach Varick Street, and she continued to drive North while the Machine updated their targets position.

 

“ _250 meters in front of you,_ ” the Machine said in their earwigs.

 

Root scanned the street in front of her but saw no vehicle, or anything that the courier might use for transport. It was just before 8AM, which meant they had approximately one hour to locate the perpetrator, and luckily the traffic was unusually scarce.

 

“I don't see anything,” Shaw said, glancing across the street as well.

 

“ _150 meters. The courier is traveling less than twenty miles per hour._ ”

 

“Are you sure?” Root furrowed her brows, still not seeing anything on the road ahead. Then, a street sign caught her eye. “Could they be on the subway?”

 

Beside her, she could see Shaw nodding. “That's why they aren't in front of us. Where's the nearest station?”

 

“ _Based on the current street and direction of travel, the next stop will be at the 9_ _th_ _Street Station,_ ” the Machine supplied.

 

“Guide me there,” Shaw ordered, glancing in her rear view mirror before she increased speed and changed lanes. “Have the car held at the station once it arrives. And get that idiot to give a physical description of the courier.”

 

Root noticed the other woman's tight grip on the steering wheel as she focused on their destination. It would be very easy to lose the courier in the crowded area, but hopefully the Machine would be able to use the GPS signal to stop the virus from slipping away. As they drove up to the station, Shaw parked their camaro on the sidewalk, exiting and immediately proceeding down the stone steps.

 

After bypassing the ticket area (it's amazing what a badge could do), they found themselves on the main platform.  Taking a moment to see all the people traveling, or waiting on the train arrival caused a nervous dread settling in the bottom of her stomach. 

 

“ETA on the train?” Shaw asked.

 

“ _Three minutes._ ”

 

“Head up those stairs,” Shaw jerked her chin across the platform to a set of double stairs, leading to the second level of the station. Passengers exiting from the other side of the train would need to cross the stairs in order to reach the exit. Meanwhile Shaw took position on a bench in order to watch passengers exiting on her side. Root walked briskly up the set of stairs, crossed the landing on the second floor, and descended again to the platform.

 

“ _Wood gave a description to director Hunter: we're looking for a white male, brown hair, light colored jacket, dark pants, and a dark knapsack._ ”

 

Root nodded as she heard the train begin it's approach, and within moments the silver car whipped by, tousling her hair to the right. Through the passing windows, she stole a glance at Shaw from across the platform, sitting and watching her as well. The train hissed, finally coming to a stop, and Root took a deep breath as all the doors simultaneously opened.

 

Passengers began spilling out, and she kept her eye out for their mark, certain that Shaw was doing the same on the other side. Soon, she spotted someone that matched the description of their courier, and she joined the crowd of people as they ascended the stairs.

 

“ _GPS indicates he's moving up to the second floor._ ”

 

The hacker nodded. “I'm on him.”

 

Blending with the group of strangers, Root followed their mark to the second floor, then down the second set of stairs leading to the other side of the platform. Shaw looked up at Root from the bench as the crowd rounded the corner towards the exit. Perhaps they should have considered a disguise, neither woman wore a jacket and their holstered weapons were clearly visible. It was hard to mistake Shaw's heavy Kevlar vest and gold shield too.

 

“ _He's stopped._ ”

 

Shaw stood from her seat and walked down the hallway, seeing their mark standing in front of a sign that listed the departure and arrival times for the day. Root was a few steps behind as Shaw approached him, grabbing the collar of his jacket, and discretely jabbing her gun into his ribs. The man's hands were immediately in the air, fearful. She thought it was very different from how Daniel Webb acted after planting the virus in the hotel. Root reached them as Shaw forced the man to lean against the wall, allowing her to check him for weapons.

 

In the distance, Root saw a man stop and watch them as he neared the exit. Shaw stepped back from the person they had seized, holding what looked like a small memory card. Upon closer examination, Root determined it was a GPS transponder.

 

“He knows we're on to him,” Shaw said.  The courier must have slipped it into this man's pocket when he realized he was being followed.

 

Root looked back to the exit and watched as the man by the stairs shouldered a black knapsack, and sprinted away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoot's reunion was originally more fluffy and nice, but then I remembered that Shaw was probably still a little pissed off, so it was changed. Tune in next time to see them chase this guy down!


	11. The Final Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shoot encounters the last courier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me preface this by saying I really do love Root. I'm sorry I have a odd way of showing it. That being said, buckle up and enjoy.

 

 

“Shaw!” Root called her name, pointing to the exit where a man had taken off up the stairs.

 

Needing no reminder the urgency, Shaw raced towards the stone steps with Root following behind. Taking two stairs at once, it wasn't long before she was back on the street, the early summer morning casting a glow over everything around her. How was it _morning_ already...? Ugh.

 

Shaw could see the courier attempting to hijack a green station wagon that had stopped at the red light. She drew her weapon from it's holster and raised it, causing several bystanders to panic around her. The commotion made her hesitate long enough for him to successfully 'jack the car and begin driving away.

 

Before she knew it, the black camaro appeared on the street, the passenger side door flying open. “Get in!” Root called from the drivers seat. Shaw immediately threw herself into the car, and Root didn't wait for the door to be shut before laying her foot on the gas pedal.

 

Shaw used the crank on the door to roll down the window and watched their courier take a right turn onto 6th Avenue. Root was close behind him, but had to swerve dangerously to avoid the other cars speeding towards her, since they had ended up in the oncoming lane. Later, Shaw would have to commend her driving; it wasn't often the hacker got to utilize that skill.

 

Returning her attention to the chase at hand, Shaw watched as the green car turned sharply on to West 8th Street, traveling east. The force of their own turn pulled Shaw's body to the left, and she found herself holding onto the door to stay upright. She half expected to hear some kind of quip from her partner, but a quick glance revealed Root's incredible focus on the task. No doubt she was receiving additional information via her cochlear implant as well.

 

The station wagon made another sharp turn, this time onto 4th Avenue. “You'll have a clear shot on this street. Get ready,” Root said before using swift hand movements to control the steering wheel.

 

Shaw held the grab handle and lifted herself to properly lean out the window. As soon as they rounded the corner, she waited for Root to even the car out before firing two shots into the tires of the sedan. The car swerved dangerously, the driver no longer able to maintain control, and it came to a stop in front of stone steps, leading up to what looked like a church. Immediately their courier exited the vehicle and ran up the steps.

 

When their own car stopped on the lawn of the building, Shaw could see a sign that read Grace Church School in large letters, shaking her head at the thought of school children being infected with this virus. She and Root quickly left the vehicle and gave chase.

 

It may not have been a good idea to burst into a middle school guns blazing, so Shaw discretely tucked the weapon into the waistband of her pants, watching as Root did the same with both her guns. As they reached the reached the top of the stone steps, a large bell rang loudly, likely to signal the beginning of classes. Pushing through the main doors, Shaw could see hundreds of students, all dressed in black in white uniforms, scatter to reach their classrooms on time.

 

“Tell me you have eyes on him,” she said to the Machine. The hall soon became clear, the hustle and bustle replaced by an eerie silence.

 

“ _The school has a single camera in the lobby,_ ” She said in their earwigs. “ _The only thing I can tell you is that he went left._ ”

 

Shaw pulled the USP Compact from her pants and made her way down the left hall. She then heard the Machine's voice over the intercom system, advising the school that there was a lock-down drill in effect, and all students were to remain in their classrooms with the doors shut. They reached the end of the hallway, seeing that it continued on in two directions. She looked at Root, the hacker was already watching her with a troubled expression.

 

“Sameen,” she said. “Please don't try and take him alone.”

 

She noticed that Root's eyes lacked their usual shine and it made Shaw's chest feel momentarily hollow. She nodded, refocusing on the task. “You too.”

 

Root nodded as well and turned on her heel, pulling both guns from her waistband. Shaw swallowed, and began walking down the opposite end.

 

It was mostly quiet, just the sound of her boots falling against the tile floor filled the empty space. She peered into the window of a classroom, only to see the children huddled underneath their desks. When she came to an open door, Shaw pushed with her foot and held her gun forward, sweeping from side to side making sure it was clear. It looked to be the staff lunch room; a long wooden table was at the center, as well as white counters lining the walls, stocked with a coffee maker, microwave, and toaster. Tucked in the corner was a large refrigerator with a clear glass door, and next to that was a vending machine. Her earpiece beeped as the Machine reached out to her.

 

“ _The other two vials have been successfully disarmed and contained. This is the last one,_ ” the Machine said. Shaw nodded, though she wouldn't be relieved until everyone in this school was safe as well.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

With both guns at her sides, Root proceeded down the hall in search of the courier. She peered into a classroom window, finding that all the lights had been turned off. Tucking her Glock into the back of her pants, she tried the handle, but it was locked so she moved on. The hacker made a turn at the end of the hall and saw a classroom door wide open. She raised her MP Shield and proceeded into what looked to be the science lab. Counters along the wall housed microscopes, and the attached cabinets were all sealed with a small locks. The opposite wall had several fume hoods, likely used in various chemistry experiments. Large benches took the place of regular desks, each having two stools behind them. Some of the tables still had supplies laying across from recent labs, she assumed. Glass jars, safety goggles, and the like. One even had a beaker sitting atop a hotplate. Several safety measures were also in place near the door, including a fire extinguisher, axe, and an eye wash station in case of emergencies. The only light in the room came from the large glass window, and Root entered slowly, watching for any kind of movement.

 

She heard a strange bubbling sound and turned her body towards it, seeing that the liquid on the hotplate had come to a boil. Root sighed, but suddenly felt a blinding pain in her right shoulder blade. The courier, having been hiding in the lab, used her momentary distraction to plunge a knife into her back. The pain had raced across her chest and down her arm, causing her to drop the MP Shield onto the ground. Root turned to face her attacker, but his fist was already in motion, making contact with her face as she turned. Thankfully remaining on her feet, she was able to evade the strike that followed. She attempted to retaliate, but her movements were slow, still reeling from being stabbed. As well, it was hard not to be distracted by the copper taste of blood in her mouth. Root was able to raise her foot and kick his stomach, pushing him back against the lab table, creating some distance.

 

Not missing a beat, he came at her again, Root was able to evade once more, and immediately lifted both arms to protect herself. He took the opportunity to pull her close and bring his knee up against her abdomen before throwing her into the lab table behind them. Root tried to catch her breath, but she felt that her body was burning from lack of energy. Having a knife lodged in her back certainly didn't help either. The right side of her torso, including her entire arm, felt like it had been paralyzed, and she remained on the table for a moment longer.

 

He took advantage of her prone position, grabbing fist fulls of her shirt and hauling her up. He throws her towards another lab table, which hits hard against her abdomen, and this time she crumpled to the ground, having the wind completely knocked from her body.

 

On the floor next to her head she saw the black knapsack that contained the virus detonator. The courier reached down for one of the straps, but she had already pulled it away, tossing it backwards across the floor. As he tried to step passed her to reach it, she kicked his legs out from underneath, bringing him to the ground along with her.

 

Root is breathless, but she tried to stay focused, and begins pulling her body along the tile floor towards the bag, seeing the familiar metal box poking from the top. Before she could get far, her attacker had hauled himself onto her back and taken hold of the knife, jerking it left and right.

 

She cried out, tears stung her eyes, and her entire body seized up in pain. Somehow she managed to raise her left elbow, jabbing him as hard as she could, using the momentum to throw him off her back. She heard what sounded like his head hitting the side of the lab bench, and was relieved at the few seconds of time that could buy her.

 

“Shaw...” the words harshly escaped her throat. “He's in the science lab.”

 

Her vision was really starting to blur now, and she wasn't certain if Shaw had responded, however she still crawled along the floor until she was finally able to touch the device. Unlike the last time, it had not yet been activated, but in her current state she wasn't sure about being able to secure it before the courier got back up. Pulling the device completely free of the knapsack, Root slid her left arm through the attached clamp, and fastened it tightly.

 

Feeling like there was nothing else she could do, Root curled her body into the fetal position, while vaguely hearing her attacker get up off the floor. His shadow loomed over, and he kicked her abdomen hard, causing her body to fold tighter. The courier then leaned down to pick up the device, but was no doubt angry upon realizing that it was now secured to her arm.

 

“No, no!” he'd said, releasing the detonator and pacing beside her. Root's eyes were half closed, and unfocused. Her left arm now outstretched, but motionless.

 

Root felt his hands on her back, pulling up the hem of her green shirt. She couldn't fathom the reason until she felt him take the gun from her pants, likely having felt it during their scuffle on the ground. She tried to call out to Shaw again, but only a quiet whimper escaped.

 

The man knelt at her arm and turned the dial to activate the detonation device. The dreaded and familiar sound of the beeping began, the high-pitched sound reverberating through her skull.  Though this modified device had no indicator light.

 

He stood once again, presumably to raise his gun. Root took a wheezing breath, and kept hope in the back of her mind that Shaw would get out before the virus was deployed. The hacker almost took comfort in the fact that she was immune to the _Sol_ regardless, but then she recalled the Machine saying that the detonation device carried an explosive element as well.

 

Suddenly three gunshots rang out, pulling her mind back to present. Her body jerked in shock, still in such distress that she wasn't sure where she had been hit. It wasn't until she heard a loud thump _behind_ her that she realized the gunshots came from somewhere else.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

“Just lie still, Root,” Shaw said, as holstered her weapon and came to kneel over Root. For some ungodly reason, the hacker had decided to secure the detonator to her own arm. To make matters worse, the device was already beeping. She tapped her earpiece. “How do I turn this off?”

 

“ _I'll walk you through the disarming sequence. Can you get the device to an airtight container? We may need to seal it._ ”

 

Shaw pushed some of Root's hair aside, peering at the hackers face. She was pale, beading with sweat, and her eyes were half lidded. Shaw couldn't be certain yet, but it looked like she was having trouble breathing too.

 

“It's attached to Root's arm.”

 

“I'm sorry,” the hacker finally spoke quietly. Her eyes were unfocused and fixed forward. “I didn't know what else to do.”

 

“Hey, look at me,” honey-colored eyes lifted to meet hers. She spoke calmly. “You're going to be okay. We can disarm the detonator and worry about the clamp later.”

 

She lifts Root's right arm to help her stand, but it caused the other woman to groan loudly. Shaw noticed that there was also a knife sticking out of her back. Jesus Christ. “So much for not taking him alone, huh? Hard to believe this isn't the stupidest thing you've done today.”

 

“He surprised me.”

 

“Uh-huh. Hold the device.”

 

Root's right hand came under to support the metal box and Shaw helped her fully to her feet. They walk a few steps, and she guides Root onto a stool. The hacker leaned over the lab table with her left arm fully stretched out.

 

“Sameen... I don't know how much time is left.”

 

Having just had her ass kicked, Shaw could see that Root was a little out of it, and her consciousness would soon start to fade. Her teeth were stained red, the side of her lip was split open, and there was a significant amount of blood saturating her shirt where the hilt of the knife stuck out. Shaw didn't have to be a doctor to know that she needed medical attention as soon as possible, and she itched to examine her injuries closely. Unfortunately the bomb/virus combination ticking on her wrist made that impossible. She pushed Root's hair from her face once more.

 

“Stay with me, Root,” Shaw opened some of the drawers beside the lab table until she came across a small tool kit. Contained within were pliers, a small knife, and screw driver. “Okay, talk me through it.”

 

“ _Remove the panel underneath the activation switch._ ”

 

Root's breathing is heavy and slow, her eyes are drooping. Shaw began unscrewing the panel as swiftly as she could. “Baby, you have to stay awake.”

 

Lifting up the panel, Shaw could see two timers counting down roughly one minute apart. One for the virus, and explosive respectively. “ _Sever the the yellow wire to the right of the timer. Make sure it doesn't touch any of the other wires._ ”

 

Her hands are steady as ever, and she used the pliers to peel the yellow wire apart from the rest before switching to the small knife to make the cut. She furrowed her brow when they continued ticking down, reaching 3:28 and 4:28 respectively.

 

“It's still going,” she said, trying to remain calm.

 

“ _One of the other devices did the same thing. They will stop at the next cut. Now to the left, find the blue wire._ ”

 

Feeling some perspiration on her brow, Shaw used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her forehead before she dug around in the mess of cords, pushing wires aside trying to look for the correct one. She stopped and brought her gaze up to Root's, who was watching her sleepily.

 

“There is no blue wire,” she could see Root's eyes lose focus, mind obviously racing.

 

“ _What colors do you see?_ ”

 

“Orange, green, purple, white.”

 

The Machine paused. “ _Stand by, Shaw. This doesn't match the other devices. Do not make any more cuts until I can determine the correct sequence._ ”

 

“Hurry up,” she growled.

 

The room was quiet for a few seconds, aside from the insisting beeping of the device. Root finally spoke again. “Sameen, you need to go.”

 

“I'm not going anywhere without you,” her voice was low. Shaw glanced around the room before returning her gaze to the timer, watching as the numbers ticked down.

 

Root sluggishly turned her head towards the door, before looking back to Shaw. “The axe.”

 

Shaw had noticed it too, but she shook her head. “That wont be able to cut the clamp off. And it might jar the explosive.”

 

Root swallowed before speaking again. “Then don't cut the clamp.”

 

Her eyes snapped to meet the Root's, staring at her sharply. She looked down at her wife's hand, still clad in the bandage she had applied earlier, the dark ring contrasting against white skin. Shaw looked back at the device, seeing that the timer had reached 2:43 and 3:43. “She's going to figure it out.”

 

“Sameen,” Root took a shaky breath.

 

“She is going to figure this out,” she said again.  Root slowly reached forward with her right hand, hooking a finger around a belt loop in Shaw's pants, beckoning the other woman closer. “Now's not a good time for that.”

 

Root breathed out what could pass as a laugh. “For once, I agree.”

 

Using nimble fingers, Root loosened the belt, freeing it from the clasp before pulling the leather from Shaw's waist. Of course Shaw knew what was trying to accomplish, but stood unmoving as she watched. She peered down once more, seeing 2:17 and 3:17 left.  Shaw could see that Root's eyes were glassy with tears, and the hacker worked the belt around her forearm, just below her elbow. “Root. Just... hold on a second.”

 

“We don't have a second,” she'd said, the leather on the belt creaking loudly as she pulled it as tight as she could.

 

“Root,” she opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure of where to even begin. Root wasn't thinking clearly, and right now there had to be another option. “I'm not going to...” she paused, finding she needed to shut her eyes and take a deep breath. “I'm not _cutting your hand off_.” It was practically a hiss.

 

“Then we're both going to die when the explosive goes off,” the hacker breathed. “Unless you get out of here right now. Start evacuating the school.”

 

Shaw's head shook a fraction. “I told you, I'm not leaving.”

 

“Then we're out of options.”

 

If only there had been more time to properly weigh everything. Assuming that the explosive could be disabled or sealed, making the cut meant stopping the virus threat thus completing her mission. However, Root was _her_ mission, as always, and taking away her hand seemed like an unreasonably high price to pay. The fact that the ring Shaw gave to her would be removed as well was oddly disheartening. Not to mention no more dual-wielding gun fights... and what if the explosive _couldn't_ be disabled? At least Root would be alive in that case, since she would be... separated from the bomb, but it would still need to be sealed somehow. If they acted quickly afterwards, the limb could always be re-attached, she supposed.

 

“Fuck,” Shaw said to herself.

 

She stepped away, walking briskly towards the exit where the fire axe hung against the wall. Her own reflection in the glass caught her eye before she threw her fist out to shatter it. She took a deep breath and pulled the axe from inside the case, returning to where Root was still sitting. She now had the end of the belt in her mouth to keep it pulled tightly around her arm. The timer was down to 1:45, and 2:45 when she returned. Root's fingers twitched, and she took ragged breaths in attempt to steel herself, meanwhile Shaw's hands tightened on the wood.

 

She raised the weapon, holding the metal blade just above Root's wrist. The weapon swayed in her grip, her surgical stillness suddenly missing in action. “I don't think I can do this.”

 

“Sameen,” Root said, having removed the belt from between her teeth. Shaw's face must have been telegraphing thoughts for the hacker to read. “It's okay,” she tried to be strong, but it was hard to ignore the fact that her entire being shook.

 

Shaw's own eyes prickled, her throat felt like sandpaper. “I can't.”

 

“You _have_ to!” Root shook terribly.

 

Shaw took a shaky breath, blinked the moisture that clouded her eyes, and raised the axe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T-Tune in next time for the stunning conclusion...
> 
> DMG RPT  
> SHAW  
> KILLED 1


	12. Where We Started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the cut is made, the threat is stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope the finale is to your liking!

 

 

“I don't think I can do this.”

 

“Sameen, it's okay.”

 

“I can't.”

 

“You have to!”

 

She raised the axe above her head, but froze as her earpiece buzzed with static. The sound caused her body to jerk in surprise.

 

“ _Shaw,_ ” the Machine's voice now rang in her ear, clear and calm. Stark in contrast to Root's real voice right now. “ _Cut the purple wire immediately._ ”

 

She dropped the axe to the ground, as if it was hot iron. What the hell was she—never mind that now. She retrieved the small knife, quickly digging through the wires before severing the purple as instructed. In an instant, the second timer froze and the clamp made a loud click, lifting from it's locked position.

 

“ _The clamp was linked to the explosive's fail-safe. Be advised that the dispersal system is still acti—_ ”

 

Shaw didn't need to hear the rest of the Machine's warning. She lifted the heavy clamp from Root's wrist and pulled the device fully off of her. The hacker stared at her vacantly for a moment before her head sagged down. With no time to make sure she was all right, Shaw sprinted from the lab.

 

She held the device in her hands and tried to move as quickly as she could without jarring it. Upon exiting the science lab, the timer was down to 0:54 seconds until the vial burst. “Are the containment teams on site?”

 

“ _A few minutes away._ ”

 

“Fuck,” she continued to race down the hall that she had previously cleared, her breathing ragged and overpowering her other senses.

 

Finally reaching her intended destination, Shaw kicked the door to the staff lounge open and ran towards the refrigerator. She pulled the door open and placed the device inside, closing it tightly. She stepped back, feeling her legs throb with the exertion, and watched as the timer reached zero. White powder burst up from the device and settled in the airtight space, and Shaw felt almost hypnotized as she watched it dissipate among the various food and drinks held within.

 

Her stomach clenched at the sight, and she felt tightness in her throat. Shaw stumbled to the nearby sink and retched. After the hotdog from earlier had been purged, she heaved again, this time only bile burned her throat and mouth. She turned the sink on, after pausing for several deep breaths. Shaw took some of the cold water in her hand and rinsed her mouth thoroughly.

 

“ _Sameen?_ ” The Machine asked. “ _What happened?_ _Are you all right?_ ”

 

She took a handful of nearby mints, shoving them into her pocket before turning away from the sink.  Her body slid to the floor. “Direct them to the staff room on the north-east side of the school. It's been contained.”

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

It took less than ten minutes for the CDC containment team to come storming into the staff room of the Grace Church school. Once inside, they used several instruments to determine that the virus was, in fact, contained within the refrigerator. Afterwards, they hauled it away to be secured along with the rest of the vials of _Sol_. The Machine advised Shaw that FBI director Hunter had requested that both she and Root return to the bureau for a debrief. As well, the doctors at the CDC still wanted to bring her in for additional testing. Shaw was tempted to have the Machine simply delete their identities to avoid the whole thing.

 

“Haven't we been at this long enough?” Shaw stepped from the staff lounge, jogging back towards the science lab.  She rolled the peppermint around in her mouth.

 

“ _I can have it postponed, if you'd like._ ”

 

“Yeah, no shit,” she waited a beat. “Do you know if Root is still conscious?”

 

“ _She hasn't responded to my hails._ ”

 

Shaw nodded to herself, “I need you to get something for me.”

 

“ _Anything, Sameen_.”

 

Shaw pushed through the large door to the science room and, as expected, Root was still sitting in the stool, her left arm outstretched on the lab table and her head down. She approached the woman, touching her shoulder tentatively, careful not to disturb the knife still lodged there. To her relief, Root stirred.

 

“Hi honey,” Root groaned, eyes flickering open. “Are you okay?”

 

“We're good. Ready to get out of here?”

 

Shaw could see her smiling as she slowly sat straight up. “I thought you'd never ask.”

 

Root's right hand came to rest against her own abdomen, while her left was outstretched to Shaw. She stepped forward to take Root in her arms, and the hacker draped her hand around Shaw's neck. Walking slowly, the pair made their way to their car outside the church, ignoring the requests for statements from the NYPD, and FBI agents that had gathered. One of the paramedics on site also offered to take Root for examination, which Shaw refused vehemently. She had quite enough of dealing with outsiders today. She and Root were going home.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Normally a quiet drive home was ideal for Shaw, but she didn't want Root to sleep again until she had a chance to examine her injuries. Shaw tried to keep her engaged by asking her exactly where she had taken blows, careful not to force Root into exerting too much energy. She was also determined not to mention what almost happened in that lab. Once they had arrived, Shaw supported the other woman's weight, walking slowly together into their house. Bear greeted them when they arrived, whining upon seeing his owners battered and disheveled.

 

Shaw immediately lead Root into the kitchen, having her sit at the island in the center. Oddly, this room had the best light, she noted, flicking on the lamps just above Root. Shaw disappeared into the master bathroom to collect towels and a bowl of warm water. She also retrieved her medical kit which contained everything she thought would be needed and quickly returned to the kitchen. She shed her heavy Kevlar vest, and rolled the sleeves of her dark shirt up. Bear sat by Root, his brown eyes looking up at her. She pat his head lazily.

 

“Bear, _gaan_ ,” he whined again, but retreated into another room. “That knife needs to come out,” Shaw said as she placed her items down on the counter and used the sink to thoroughly wash her hands.

 

She snapped a pair of purple latex gloves over her hands and moved to stand behind Root and examine the wound. The blood was beginning to dry, which was good, but it would make removing her shirt somewhat challenging. Shaw dipped one of the hand towels in the warm water and dabbed it against the wound to loosen the fabric.

 

“How attached are you to this shirt?”

 

“Trying to rip my clothes off already?” Root didn't miss a beat, and Shaw couldn't help the grin that momentarily took over her face. She couldn't believe they were both all right. Well, mostly. She shook her head, trying to return to her neutral expression.

 

She took a pair of scissors from a nearby drawer and began cutting Root's green shirt away from the bottom. Meanwhile Root gathered her hair to one side, and tied it in a low ponytail. Once the shirt was completely severed, she prepared to extract the knife by grasping the handle. “Ready?”

 

Root bobbed her head, and Shaw quickly pulled the blade from her shoulder. The hacker groaned in response, her whole body tensing. Shaw pushed the rest of Root's shirt aside, placing the warm towel over the wound to stop the bleeding. Root fully removed her own shirt, leaving her in just a black bra, and placed what was left of the green fabric on the counter next to the supplies. She heard Bear's claws clicking against the wood floor, apparently checking to see why Root cried out. Shaw noticed he carried a slipper in his mouth, dropping it at Root's feet. Shaw gave him a look, and he returned to the bedroom.

 

Shaw could tell that Root's breathing continued to be somewhat uneven, speculating that there had been more damage done when the courier kicked her. “Stand up for me,” she said, pulling the towel away from her skin, laying it on the counter as well.

 

Root did as asked, and Shaw could tell by the hiss she uttered that she was still in distress. She was rigid as she raised herself to a standing position, her right arm coming across her abdomen for support. Shaw stood, moving to stand in front of her, guiding Root's hands away from her own body. She was thankful that her mind was currently in clinical mode, otherwise the sight of Root standing in just her bra would be problematic.

 

With her latex clad fingertips, Shaw began checking Root for damage, pressing her skin in various locations along the ribs to look for tenderness or pain. Seeing lines of red and purple hues sticking out against her white skin was a clear indication of where the injury was. It wasn't until she touched under the left breast that Root reacted, sharply taking a breath. Shaw drew her hands back, pausing as the long white scar on Root's chest caught her eye. She stared for a beat before Root's hands came up and cupped her face, forcing her to look up.

 

“Does it still bother you?” Root asked.

 

Like she thought to herself earlier, the scar helped to ground her when it felt like she was losing herself. “No,” she'd said quietly. Perhaps that was something she should share with Root.

 

She shook her head, intense and sustained eye-contact was the best way to get distracted when she still had some work to do. The quicker she finished patching Root up, the sooner they could retire for the day. Shaw pulled her gaze from Root's and returned to the counter to dig in her medical kit.  She returned with several strips of colored KT tape, instructing that Root lift her arm over her head. In the past, Root had been something of a difficult patient and her quiet compliance was such a vast change, one that Shaw attributed to the exceptionally long mission they had endured. Swiftly applying the bright tape in the areas above, below, and across where she felt the damage just under the bra line, she then returned her focus to the open wound on her back. Having used the tape on a few occasions before, Root knew to rub the length in order to set the adhesive, and did so without prompt.

 

“A few stitches and we'll be finished. You still doin' okay?”

 

Root eased herself back onto the stool. “You know how much I love watching you work.”

 

Shaw sat on the stood behind the hacker, pulling it close to her body. First using a disinfectant to thoroughly clean the area surrounding the small stab wound, she then took her already threaded needle and began stitching. It wasn't often that she felt exhaustion so fully in her body, but she was expending considerable effort to stay upright and focused right now.

 

“Sam?” Root said. “If the Machine hadn't called in time...” 

 

“I... don't know, Root,” Shaw knew she was referring to the almost disaster in the science lab. “I don't ever want to think about that again,” she was halfway done when she heard the vibration of a cellphone in the distance. The Razr, she assumed, still lying on the nightstand in their bedroom. “What does She want now?”

 

Of course, she knew the Machine could hear her anyway. “She had my bike brought back. And the tracker that you asked for?”

 

Shaw nodded, recalling the favor she asked the Machine for prior to leaving the church. She had finished the sutures, and used the scissors to cut the thread. “Yeah,” she began, applying a small amount of ointment over the wound, and placing a thin bandage over top. “It's the jacket you left in the garden earlier.”

 

Root spun around in the stool to face Shaw, their knees bumping. There was a look in the amber of her eyes, one that revealed adoration and love. Shaw got sucked into the purity it, and felt her lips tug upwards in response.

 

“You got my jacket back?”

 

She blinked, shrugging her shoulders. It wasn't a big deal, she thought. Although Root had several jackets, this one was among her favorites. Well, it's the one Shaw most often had to stitch after being shot, stabbed, or blown up. But then, the look on Root's face told her that maybe the gesture _was_ a big deal. The hacker reached out, tracing her fingers down Shaw's cheeks before settling on her neck, careful of the bandage still stuck there. Her fingertips were warm, which Shaw found unusual considering they were usually quite cold. Root leaned in, and Shaw's lips parted in anticipation but Root showed surprising hesitation before kissing her. Shaw gently grasped the woman's elbows as she returned the kiss. After spending the day angry at Root for putting herself in danger, and terrified that she would lose her for good this time, kissing her wife felt peaceful, although Root seemed to have other ideas. Her hand made it's way to grasp the back of Shaw's head, taking a handful of hair. Shaw tasted the blood on her lips, and was reminded that Root was probably in no shape for any kind of sexual activity.

 

Still, like the first gasp of air after being underwater for too long, the relief was overwhelming. Shaw pulled back, but with little effort. Root chased her lips and captured them once more. Shaw's hands snaked around to Root's back, feeling the heat through the latex gloves she still wore, the rough adhesive tape she just finished applying was yet another reminder that this should not escalate. Shaw drew back with success this time, though their lips remained impossibly close. A mere breath away.

 

“Root,” she spoke into her mouth. Another kiss was the response. The hacker took Shaw's bottom lip between hers to suck on, making it increasingly difficult to ignore the desire for more. Still, she held her ground. “You need rest.”

 

Shaw felt her wife's lips curl upwards against hers. “Doctor's orders, huh?” Root grazed her lips over hers.

 

Shaw pulled their bodies closer, opting to kiss Root's neck instead. She then kissed her collar and shoulder before pressing her lips next to the scar from the bullet fired by Shaw's own gun, resting her face against the skin. Root's hand, still grasping the back of Shaw's head, moved in a constant rhythm, effectively massaging the skull. The action lulled her, and Shaw's body must have slacked somewhat, the next thing she felt was Root squeezing her shoulder, shaking her back awake. They finally pulled apart, and Shaw stood from the stool, shaking her head of fog. She pulled the purple gloves from her hands, and reached into her kit for some pain medication. “Take these and head to bed. I'll clean up.”

 

Root took the two pills from her and began shuffling into the bedroom, first stopping to pick up the bunny slipper Bear had left. Shaw collected the unused supplies and returned them to her kit. She also disposed of the knife that had been lodged in the hacker's back, and thoroughly cleaned their kitchen island. Though she should probably check in with the Hub and return her Kevlar and badge, Shaw was dead on her feet decided to turn in as well. Her sense of time was somewhat off, having been working the mission through the night, regardless she was looking forward to some much needed sleep.

 

By the time she crossed their bedroom, Root was already lying on top of the covers on her right side, facing towards the window with Bear at her feet, chewing the slipper again. It looked like Root had changed into a tank top and sweatpants, having shed the rest of her clothes and tossed them unceremoniously into the bathroom. Shaw returned her kit to it's place, and changed her clothing as well, opting for shorts and a t-shirt. She also pulled the elastic band from her hair and teased out the length with her fingers.

 

When Shaw returned to the bedroom, she noticed that the medication was lying untouched on Root's nightstand. Her bottle of bourbon was uncapped next to them.

 

“You should take the meds instead of that,” Shaw said, yawning as she laid down next to Root, the bed dipping under her weight.

 

Assuming that the other woman was already sleeping, Shaw settled close behind her, taking up her favorite position against the hacker's back. She stretched her arm over Root's thin waist, and felt around until she could touch her hand. Hearing their metal bands clink together, Shaw caressed her fingers briefly, before letting them lace together.

 

Evidently Root was not yet asleep, and she rolled her body over so they now lay face to face. Shaw's arm remained lazily over her waist, while Root's hands came up to brush the hair from Shaw's face. The feel of her hands, combined with the alleviation of being home again was starting to overpower her. Shaw felt her eyes prickling, lids heavy, beckoning her to sleep, while Root's fingertips traced her face. She touched her brow, moving to caress the apple of her cheek before continuing down her jawline. The feeling of safety and relaxation was difficult to resist. Dark spots filled her vision as she allowed her eyes to flutter closed.

 

“Sameen,” she hazily heard Root say. She struggled to open her eyes again having to blink several times for Root's face to come back into focus.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Could I hold you,” Root asked, “for a little while?”

 

Shaw nods, and pulls her body into Root's embrace, while long arms envelop her. She finds herself laying against her wife's chest, skin still feeling uncharacteristically warm. She couldn't think much on it, as Root began to stroke Shaw's hair, causing her to slip into sleep.

 

Her mind begins to fade, no longer racing with the days events. The last thing Shaw could hear was Root's heart thumping in her chest, steady and true, hiding underneath the scar that almost ended both their lives. Shaw pulled back a fraction and pressed her lips to the white line before nestling in her safe place.

 

And if she had to deal with Root coming down with a fever tomorrow... well, she'd take that over a deadly virus any day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever feel so tired that every time you blink you think you could fall asleep right where you are? That's how I think Shaw was by the end of this. The plot of this fic is based (loosely) on the third season of 24. With some differences to accommodate Shoot, of course. :-)
> 
> KT Tape is used by athletes when recovering from injury. It can help muscles heal without the inconvenience of a bulky dressing. And they come in pretty colors.
> 
> Root _does_ have a fever. Peanuts compared to the virus!
> 
> I had an alternate ending planned where Root wasn't immune to the infection. Part of it was written, but it gave me bad dreams, so let's never speak of it again.
> 
> I appreciate everyone checking this out, leaving comments, or just enjoying the story. As always, thanks for tuning in!
> 
>  
> 
> TOTAL MAYHEM  
> SHAW  
> INJURED 12  
> KILLED 11
> 
> ROOT  
> INJURED 10  
> KILLED 3


End file.
